Overlord: Rise of Istannice
by LordWinter13
Summary: Having arrived in the New World with his City-Eversweet, Vehuel, Seraph of Audacity, must discover, explore and maybe even conquer this world filled to the brim with monsters and wicked men. The Great Harbor of Istannice must contend with oddities without, and ambitions from within, but even amidst this turmoil and strife, a not so unfamiliar evil rises in lands undiscovered.
1. Chapter 1: Part 1

Overlord: Rise of Istannice

Chapter One: Part One-

"I was looking everywhere in the palace for you..."

Luis turned his head from the mausoleum to see a blood red demon, horns, black as sin, curved upwards, wings folded on his back, hidden amidst the various folds of his pitch, tar like robes. Even with viper yellow eyes and a devious smirk, his face didn't move the slightest even as concern leaked from his voice.

"Sorry, Maxi. Wanted to see him. This will be the last chance we'll visit his... 'grave', and I just wanted to get the most out of it." Vehuel's halo bobbed slightly as he turned back around to the tomb.

They made it as Ancient Egyptian themed as they could, urns holding 'organs' lined its feet, vast piles of golden coins flanked massive statues and busts of the same material, and his animal headed NPCs were stony still, guarding their maker's electronic grave.

"We'll give a toast to him later, Lu." The demon reassured, "The whole gang is coming."

Luis grimaced, but his avatar couldn't show it, even if it did have a face. "Good. How's Roxy?"

"She's cursing the day she met me, but other than that, the hospital has her all good and covered. I'll be with her tomorrow morning. God, I'm nervous." An emote popped up over the demon's head, a face strained and a tense drop of sweat at the right of its 'scalp'.

"Eh, you'll be a good dad. Did you pick a name?"

"Noooo..." Maxi sounded strained. "Can't think of anything."

"Well, think quickly, before your wife names the brat something Norwegian." A laughing emote popped up over the angel's head.

"You're going to be an uncle, why don't you help?!"

"Uh-uh, I'm going to be the fun uncle, not the smart one. I'm worse than you with naming stuff."

"Aren't the little brothers supposed to be the more creative?"

"The older brother is supposed to be in charge, how are you doing with that?"

"Boys!" A woman yelled, and at the door, a human, armored in ancient Greek armor, blue robes and held a lance of polished steel so bright it looked like silver. "Quit arguing over the dead guy." Despite distinctive appearance of the player, there was a humorous, North American drawl to her words.

"Beth!" They both exclaimed joyfully. Maxi inquired "Did you hear anything from Ant?" It took three or so seconds for the words to be translated to English.

"Yeah, the furry should be here any second. I'm just worried with Vincent; he didn't sound all that enthusiastic when I sent him the invitation." A sad emote popped over her head.

"Well, he's a guild master in real life now, a law firm or something. If he doesn't come, we'll just email him our goodbyes." Luis stated, a shrugging figure popping over his head.

"Still... he could at least say goodbye to Jay-Jay." Beth's avatar moved to the grave. "You guys keep in touch with his family?"

"No." They both replied. "They didn't respond to my messages; they probably didn't want to open old wounds though." Maxi tried to reassure, but they all knew the rumors of how the areas around North Africa may have been attacked.

There was a pregnant silence in the mausoleum, a terrible realization of not only how they won't be able to pay respects to their friend and fellow guild founder, but they felt deep down that they would also drift apart in time without YGGDRASIL.

"Okay, let me know if you heard this joke; a demon, an angel, and a knock off Athena walk into a graveyard..." A man chuckled from the entrance of the mausoleum. The trio faced the newcomer, a golden minotaur, covered in violet armor and carrying a two headed axe.

"Seriously, Anthony?" Bethany toned sarcastically.

"What? We're griping over a buddy's digital freaking grave. A little self-awareness in this situation would show you how hilarious it is." The eight-foot bull man shrugged.

"Well, we got about seven minutes left... want to start now?"

"Sure." Maxi nodded, "Got a feeling Vincent isn't coming."

All four of them took out 'Wine-Ambrosia' from their inventory, their avatars holding up various goblets and tankards up towards the tomb, "To our friend, may he rest in peace." All four of them then unequipped and dropped the item from their character, the loot then appearing on the crypt as the icons seen in their menu and now floated and spun aimlessly over the encased shrine.

Anthony then immediately started laughing and proceeded into wheezing, "Oh God! I don't know what I expected!"

The two brothers began to laugh alongside him, not as hard mind you, but Bethany's avatar crossed her arms and an angry emote appeared over her head. "You're being rude!"

After they paid their respects, they started moving to the heart of their Guild-Base, the City Ever-Sweet, the Great Harbor-City; Istannice of the Sea. The palace was flanked by the three times three citadel-rookeries, at their bases, the various gryphons idled about, seeking enemies, while nearer the tops, angels of either red, blue or yellow hovered near their home sets of towers. The massive flying carpet they sped on denied them the splendor of the rest of the city, to contemplate how much time, resources and effort they and the other twenty-three guild members put into this place. How much love and passion was poured out into this collection of digital information? And knowing it all would just... vanish made Luis's heart sink to his bowels. He and Maxi put eight years of each other's lives, sharing the single virtual reality pod until Luis moved out and got his own.

Luis felt the dim, hollow pull of his left shoulder and saw Bethany, whom had a smile emote over her head.

"I hope I don't look like I'm brooding." Luis responded with an embarrassed emote.

"You're looking out of to the city, broodingly, and not saying anything. Also, broodingly. You can't get any broodier." Beth spoke.

"Well if the shoe fits..." Luis shrugged.

"Pucker up, buckeroo!" Anthony laughed, "Last time you see each other! Let's see if the censors are still working!"

The minotaur swung his palm down into Beth's rear end, where all four of them received a pop up. "Hey guys, I'm only seeing Japanese." Maxi laughed.

"Me too." Luis confirmed, "Guess they didn't translate EVERYTHING into Italian."

Bethany had a seething emote over her head. "Push the button on the right!" She commanded.

"Wait guys! I'm just kiddi-!" Anthony was cut off as his avatar suddenly vanished, and all three of them started roaring with laughter.

"That was too perfect!" Luis croaked between breaths, but his mood shifted slightly back into its melancholy as the carpet floated smoothly onto a levitating platform next to the palace.

"Well... end of the line!" Maxi gave a smile emote before walking off and the two others followed.

"If you want, we can try and scram these last three minutes and see if Nazerick is vacant! No one's managed to get in the last floor." Luis teased.

"No, not a chance in hell, no way." Beth deadpanned.

"C'mon, we may have gotten our asses handed to us, but it was fun!" Maxi gave a thumbs up.

"I'm half convinced that defeat was the reason Vin kept coming back less and less." Beth explained. "We got beat BAD."

Luis shrugged. "Yeah..."

The palace was an odd amalgamation of elements; at first inspection it looked like something taken out from One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, but the NPCs that guarded its entrances were sand elves, dressed in turbans with their pointed ears sticking out the sides, holding glaives, spears and scimitars, and black-iron dragons, twice the length of a man, crawled like geckos across its walls, deep red, burning eyes peering at the three as they reached the heart of the Gelded Guild's home.

The Earth-Heart's close proximity magnified its buffing stats across the three of them. The World-Item harvested from the corpse of the Midgard Serpent fed the city with power, and its buffs assured that while it was not as acutely and precisely defended as Nazerick, the Pandemonium, or the other Top Five Guild-Homes; it was nearly unassailable, the deeper their enemies came, the stronger and stronger the defenders became, where they could grow only weaker, and the one boast that Nazerick can always use is that not a single intruder reached the final level, unlike them. Not that anyone would try that when the city could ban them from trading, the only way they'd get higher tier gear or materials was to go harvest and make it themselves. Monopolies are wonderful like that.

At the bottom of the gargantuan, vine embedded, stony heart was a massive golden table, meant to hold Harshad-Twenty-Seven, the largest the Gilded ever became. Most were simple chairs for the majority humanoid players, two were open backed for the brothers Vehuel and Nasazel's wings, and three were large, one for the recently kicked guild member and the largest meant for a literal Giant. The farthest back, directly under the Earth-Heart, had several plush cushions and fawning harem girls of various races at its flanks for their guild master.

The three didn't take their seats, instead as they reached the base of the Earth-Heart, Maxi spoke, "Hey guys, I'm gunna leave."

Luis gave a sad emote, "Don't want to stick with us until the end?"

"This is a beginning, Lu." His brother gave a smiling emote back, "There are whole new worlds opening up for us. A door closes, three others are flung open."

Luis felt like lashing out at him for just abandoning them at the last second but bit his cheek and replied, "I guess."

"I'll see you, mom and dad when the baby's born?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Luis replied quickly, earnest in his desire to see his niece or nephew.

The demon-sorcerer, the great and terrible Nasazel, logged out for the last time, leaving the Greek goddess and the armored angel alone in contemplation.

"What will we do after this?" Luis sighed.

"Live. Get a hobby." Bethany smiled. "Let's get the rest of the gang in here." Walking towards Vehuel and presenting her spear, the World-Item, Gungnir. It always tickled Luis knowing a faux-Greek goddess used a Nordic artefact as her ultimate weapon.

He hesitated to take it only for a moment, but when it was in his hands, he turned to the doorway and ordered, "ASSEMBLE THE GREAT HOST!"

Within seconds, the palace's royal chamber filled with over a hundred NPCs from every corner and kind that inhabit Istannice; angels, demon, sand-elves, humans, beastmen, giants, golems, and gaudy, golden automatons filled the throne room to the brim. Luis thrust the spear up in salute, where the NPCs returned the gesture of respect with their model's various manners, humanoids bowed, beastmen rose their weapons and cheered the generic NPC noise, and the larger or more alien NPCs clacked, slammed chests with fists, splayed their wings and so on.

"Listen, I know you're enjoying yourself, and I just want to ask if-" Beth sent one half of the text by accident text, "well, if I emailed you and you wanted to see me on another game or something, would you mind?" The goddess shrugged.

Luis blinked and for a moment he forgot his avatar was expressionless, "Sure, absolutely!" The angel nodded. "What are you planning on going to next?"

"Maybe something science-fiction themed, mix things up a bit." A laughing emote appeared.

Luis quickly checked his clock and saw it was only a dozen seconds until midnight. "Sounds good!" He spoke both eager and anxiously.

"It'll be alright, sugar pie." Beth's avatar hugged Luis awkwardly, her arms and body going through and around the angel.

Luis quickly sent the 'hold hands?' Invite to his last remaining friend, whom quickly accepted, and their respective avatars lost control of their closest shared appendages and joined. "Here it comes!" He yelled out in electrified panic.

For a brief second, there was just black. Luis was expecting his pod to power down and be back in his parent's game room. Then he'd sneak down, bake that frozen pizza he stored in the fridge and head to bed. He had to prepare the restaurant for... something, maybe he'd wake up early and-

Luis opened his eyes.

"Huh..." He continued to see the Host. The palace remained... maybe he was premature? Luis turned to his left, "Beth you- what the-?!" He exclaimed in shock and horror. The woman was gone! Did she log out?! Luis looked down at his hands, tried to call up the console to log out manually, maybe it was just lagging or something before the shutdown got to the European areas.

"Um..." Luis tried getting the console again, "what..."

"Prince?"

"Eh?" Luis paused uncertainly. He hesitantly turned his head towards the one who approached him. It was Ozzydamandiuz's, or Vincent's, chief NPC, his 'daughter', Sheikh. Her dark skin, pointed ears, and lilac eyes were the only thing he could see of her, the rest were covered in dark robes laden with golden embroidery and runes.

"Seraph? Is everything alright?"

...

"Aaaahhhhhh!" The Angel cried out in terror.

The officers of the Host all gasped at the display.

"What the hell is happening?! God in heaven, help me! Jesus, Saints, Burning Bush, I don't ca-!" A dim orange aura flashed through Vehuel's vision and his calm returned promptly. "Hmmm... bring up the console..." The angel muttered lowly as he lifted a finger and it clicked nothing, wrangling together what he did and did not know as of now. He felt like he was floating inside his own body, the emotional one-eighty going through his mind feeling like it effected his body. Even as he tried to understand what was happening, a breeze wafted through the chamber, the smell of incense, burning fires and a briny, salty tang. He was engulfed in orange once more, as terror piqued due to the sudden overload of senses he was not meant to have in YGGDRASIL.

He had the sudden urge to lick his lips, feeling a dryness, and while an opening of his mouth could be felt, no tongue, no lips to lick, nose to scratch but he could still somehow smell. He didn't even blink when he consciously tried to.

A brief form of... claustrophobia? Would this be accurate? A sudden need to leave this unfamiliar case his mind was now trapped in and return to the one familiar, with a face, eyes that winked and lungs that... dear god, even his chest failed to rise when he tried to breath.

"Prince?" Shiehk asked again, a tinge of panic as she saw one of the Seven moving his head sharply from side to side.

Vehuel's wings gave a single beat, almost startled as his awareness returned. "Apologies, Minister. I was lost in thought." '_Was __**that **__my voice?!_' The deep, almost booming rattle that didn't seem to come out of his throat or mouth but vibrated and shook from within his armor.

"For what reason was the Host called? Is there war?" The minister inquired.

"Emh…" Luis paused, '_They don't actually think I'm the Seraphim of Audacity, do they? But what happens when they find out I'm just some idiot in a headset_?' Making a snap decision, he tried to think up something fancy and poetic, "Send a couple fast boats to see if everything's okay around the area!" '_That was the best you could do, you giant goddamn idiot?!_'

"Should we light the Stronghold?"

"No. We don't know if-" The orange aura flared again, the idea of cowering in these halls suddenly sickening Vehuel. "Too premature, we don't know the situation outside the walls."

"Understood." She bowed, and her form turned to gold-dust which somehow floated away in a straight path out of the palace on the currents of the disorderly wind.

What was this effect he was experiencing?! Dread filled the angel to the brim at the idea he was sick or addled by some unseen- the aura appeared once more.

Vehuel nodded slowly, '_So it only happens during moments of intense fear?'_ Looking down at his hands, he flexed his fingers and locked them against his palms into fists. The warmth of blood stopping didn't come, and he looked to his side, spotting the spear Gungnir he dropped onto the polished floor in panic.

He steadily grasped and took it up. A warm radiance came from it and spilled into Vehuel, a sudden strength filled his chest and limbs and felt he could stand taller, straighter. Even with Gungnir's effects, his hands still shook with worry for Bethany, and he was surprised that his fear hadn't been affected by the emotional suppresser. As he was pondering this dilemma, he managed to glimpse out of the palace's entrance.

The night sky took from him his worry and concern, replacing all within the Angel-Player with wonder and awe. As if in a trance, he strode by the various dark elf guards that knelt in deference as he passed until he was finally outside.

The vision of the city, bustling and golden-burning against the starry, clear night struck a chord deep within Luis. He never truly understood the scope of how big this city was in YGGDRASIL. It spanned nearly five-hundred square kilometers, the city covering twelve islands, some artificially created with terraforming magic and dragged into position, others were collected when Istannice was teleported closer to land. Some two others, other than the mainland, at forty-five or so degrees out of his vision and some dozen kilometers apart, he stood on were visible, alight, chaotically scuttling with dignified purpose within each NPC as if it were like as the Gilded described the city's fluff, triremes pulling into his sight as they passed the over urbanized spots of land's engulfment of vision, torches burning along its dozen men tall hulls and humans on their surfaces performing their various maritime duties.

Of course, it would have been difficult to make half a million individual NPCs in YGGDRASSIL, but here, in this world that seemingly animated not only the NPCs every Harshad member put a great deal of effort and time into, but seemingly spawned the superfluous elements that couldn't even be applied and only mentioned.

Following the grace of the flames of torches, hearths and pits reflecting on the rippling waves of the sea; he saw the glimmer and divinity of the bare evening sky. The moon, its stars, the purple, yellow space-things he didn't have words for arching through them… he saw it all growing closer, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

Luis felt like weeping at its perfect, unmolested beauty, and when he didn't, he touched a finger to his face, searching for wetness, only for the digit to feel nothing on its search, not the surety of solid matter for a visage. This sobered his mind like a drunk being tossed in a cold bath, and he quickly looked down on himself, seeing that he was no longer at the throat of the palace, nor even standing on the islands.

Somehow managing to float up into the air, over a hundred leagues off the surface of the world. A moment of panic beset Vehuel but as orange briefly lit his vision, that fear turned to fascination, realizing his wings lightly pounded to keep him aloft. He mentally smiled in exhilaration as he consciously made his newly discovered appendages to stop.

Then he began to fall.

Vehuel wasn't sure if the fear-suppressor was only temporary or if his mounting fear momentarily outstripped its ability to compensate, but its aura glowed in his periphery as if he was set alight, even as the terror thrilled him, as he grew closer, that thrill was replaced by certainty. Having reached such a monstrous speed with his minutes-long descent, he focused again on beating his wings, as hard as he could and regain control to where only gravity guided him. The contrast occurred, and he somehow flew even faster towards the watery surface, and when he tried to pull back in shock, _then _did he begin to stabilize his altitude. Now scanter distances from his city, he viewed it from the heavens in all its glory. The City Ever-sweet.

As he admired it all, he saw a shape coming towards him from the city, growing larger in its briefest seconds of approach until he recognized the being as Nothiel, one of the NPCs he made personally. The Archangel of Truth bowed when he found a comfortable distance between him and his maker. "My Prince." He stood straight, his robes fluttering even under his red-armor, but there was no face, only a void where his head and face should be in his hood. '_Never got how my brother found the angels in the _Diablo _series creepy until now_.' "For what reason have you come here?"

'_Okay, something… poetic, diviney… ya know, like a Seraph!_' "To admire all of this glory… every corner of this world will have much the same in its beauty." Gesturing at the horizon with Gungnir. Which wasn't entirely untrue… he only got here because he was admiring a bit _too_ much.

Nothiel looked at the direction vaguely, his stole fluttering wildly in the strong winds. "It is… aesthetically pleasing, my Prince."

"Please, just Vehuel." He opened a hand towards his creation. How long did Luis spend, wrestling on what to call his NPCs and how they would be like? He saw Nothiel, his 'firstborn', and saw the lines of background information of how amongst the trinity of Archangels he forged, Nothiel is the most distant, emotionally detached and logical, praising a landscape would be amongst the vices that he most definitely wouldn't understand. "For what reason do you come to ask for what reason have I left?"

The Nothiel's hooded head tilted at the Seraph in curiosity, "I was told you've been acting odd and wish to see if you're alright."

'_Odd? We wouldn't have been able to have a conversation until less than an hour ago!' _"It's many elements effecting my mood; I worry for Beth-, I mean, Percilia. She was with us when we came to this world."

"So, it is true; we have been taken to a new world of the World-Tree?"

"I don't think we are even upon the World-Tree, at least the one we knew." Vehuel looked down concernedly.

"Beyond the World-Tree?" A rise in his voice reflected his maker's own worry.

'_Are there even other Players from YGGDRASIL_? _Would they be scattered among different plains like the Guilds were?_' Luis thought, '_What even is _here? _How can_-?' _**"My Prince…**_" A voice filled his head and momentarily startled him, making him beat his wings quickly, his large, metallic halo briefly confused where it was to hover over his head, and felt like a startled chicken but the orange effect returned his composure and he brought a finger to his ear.

'_Must be a Message Spell from Shiehk_.' _**"Report, Minister**_." Quickly turning away from Nothiel in embarrassment.

"_**Our Triremes have found unusual waters, unlike those of Midgard. The vessel lookouts spotted different landmasses, the closest being some thirty-two kilometers away, we have erected several defensive spells just in case other may monitor us and I so declare that Istannice is secure by most means other than World-Items**_."

"_**Very good, Shiehk Yarmin-Ejdar**_." Recalling a certain World-Item at the mention, _**"Assemble the rest of the Seven at Amun's crypt**_." Vehuel turned to Nothiel patiently hovering, "Follow me."

They descended towards the city, the Seraph unable but to be distracted of the various denizens going about their business then looking up, pointing at the pair of angels, smiling and exclaiming. Most were human, clad in toga-robes or armor but there also the occasional beastman, Hound-Folk predominantly but the sporadic Minotaur and Satyr were also seen in the scramble of Bethany's Graeci-human quarter.

As they descended to the Necropolis, Vehuel's mind raced at what he may encounter, not only how the Seven Ministers are now animated and seemingly alive, but a private hope that he would go to Jay's crypt and he could somehow be there waiting for him. He might not have been as level headed as Vincent, as single-minded as Beth or knew Luis like Maxi did, but he was a careful listener and sometimes said things which seemed so obvious when he spoke them, the friend he used to go to when he needed advice.

It was one thing to see the menagerie of the Seven all assembled around the false tomb of Jay, it was another to see the tomb-guards, mechanical and mummy-like emulations of the various gods of the mythology he loved with their human like bodies and animal heads waiting alongside them as guards, the thing that reactivated his fear-suppressor was see four goblets dropped near the coffin, red wine staining its top.

Regaining himself, Vehuel marched in and observed the party made as they briefly knelt, only for him to quickly respond, "Rise." There was Alaon, Minister of the Graeci. His dry skin was swarthy, and wrinkles pressed against his bones tightly and made him look as if he was carved from wood. Dark eyes complimented his long beard, and his brow loomed heavily on his face, giving a constant scowl. Despite the Graeci humans being buffed by the Earth-Heart and drinking from Fonts of Youth that Bethany liked to decorate around her NPC quarter, he gave no youthful exuberance of any kind at being here; honor, duty and loyalty to the Gilded fueling his actions. Armored in mithril reminiscent of the ancients from Greece and a golden mane atop his Corinthian helm, he held his spear fiercely, and in his other hand he held a shield nearly as large as he was and gave no hint of fatigue or discomfort.

Beside him stood a Houndfolk lady, Argos, long blonde hair graced her fair skin and her features would be lovely if not for a few pointed, wicked teeth that poked past her lips, a predatory burning-green intensity in her eyes that made Vehuel confused whether she was going to attack and eat him or was simply listening intently. Adorning her slim, athletic form were furs of foxes, wolves and bears, and at her left shoulder carried the head of a three-eyed, sharp toothed goat-creature, the 'Chimera' divine armor that Anthony created and used before his current set of armor. She rested both her hands on the pummel of the Battle-Axe, Taurox, the Murder-Supper, while it didn't have the sheer presence of size like Alaon's gear, looking at the obsidian, sheer-square axe-head filled Vehuel's mind with the countless characters it has gorged itself into, both feeding off of and fueling its wielder's bloodlust.

Opposing her on the otherside of the tomb, a horned humanoid reminiscent of Maxi's avatar, save the features of the face were ruined, jagged, sharp, with slits for a nose, lips were sliced and peeled back to show dagger-teeth lining the gums of his mouth, solid purple eyes slanted more vertically then horizaontally, and two horns came from the sides of its bald scalp like a pincer, and only highlighted his elongated neck protruding from a more or less pedestrian body. Aesham's thin, spindly fingers held his Great Lute, Gleaming-Hendrix, with a visible degree of delicacy, the instrument's white surface clashing against his attire's dark preistly demeanor of a demonic-bard, with a burning red gem at the center of his collar and his vestments dripped with phantom blood that seemingly evaporated when it touched the floor, a strange combination of traits from both the cleric and bard classes.

Alongside the demonic bard was a clash of theme, and Vehuel looked on with both pride and hesitancy at Rulthiel, the Archangel of Knowledge. He clashed against his siblings due to him wearing _only_ robes of gilded, blue silk and unlike the others, was a wizard through and through, holding many scrolls in his satchel and various books and tomes were hooked to his attire with straps and buckles, the only article which impressed his militant abilities was the golden dagger, _Lucifer's Razor_, strapped to his hips and nearly buried in scrolls. '_Elegant and gauche both_.' Vehuel thought.

At the angel's flank stood a tall birdman, armored from head to toe (talon?) with plaques of gold and rings of the same material covered Arus's arms, chest and legs, with a predominant beak covered in a shield of gemmed and enchanted platinum that contrasted both his blue eyes and tan-yellow feathers. In his hand he carried a massive double-headed halberd, crescent shaped axes of mithril only being disrupted in their shape but a sudden and garish spike-spears at their centers, cogs appeared to move in the small gaps between his limbs, body and small parts of his face.

Lastly, there stood a male sand-elf of handsome, sharp features, neck long silk like hair and seemed to always give a small grin that bordered on devious. Melkoth wore thick flowery-patterned fabrics of orange velvet in the bizarre amalgamation of the medieval Ottomans and the sheer, startling elements of the sand-Elves from YGGDRASSIL with their adornments of darker metals, emeralds and sapphires dangling from the edges of sleeves, elbows and silver earrings.

Shiehk was a welcome sight, but something looked different in her eyes as she approached. "The Seven are ready to hear your commands. What would you have of us?"

Vehuel was hesitant to answer, and when he decided what would be best, he announced, "Lift Amun's lid." They all looked at one another in uncertainty of defiling one of their Prince's tombs. "We buried him with a World-Item… and while I'm sorry about this, our need for it is unassailable." He had to bite the words off in chunks to withhold to his own disgust, gripping so tightly onto Gungnir that the World-Item strained.

"I shall stand by thee." Arus's voice was a mix between singsong and gloomy, "Come you here and aid us." The massive mechanical birdman pointed at Alaon whom nodded back, planting his spear in the stone at his feet before both strode to their closest side of the tomb, grabbed one of the bars alongside it, then quickly lifted the solid sandstone lid as if it were nothing.

There was no body. Several of his personal items, but nothing of the avatar itself existed. At the center of the small horde; a seemingly plain looking globe with a man carrying it upon his shoulder. Vehuel did his best not to disturb the pile of plated armor, mechanical gears and scrolls as he retrieved it, lifting it up by the man. He held it up to show the others, where he declared, "Behold the World-Item; Atlas!"

The globe began to turn, warping more into an egg shape, where Vehuel placed the small statue on the floor and saw it open up like a flower, its petals began to expand in all directions across the floor, its flat surface slowly crevicing into rivers, piquing into mountains, and bottoming into seas. Color soon flooded across it like a deluge, blues, greens, browns and stony greys, trees sprouted, waters flowed and then edifices of cities, towns and villages.

"This _definitely_ isn't Midgard…" Rulthiel spoke lowly.

Vehuel pointed at a settlement with near two thousand souls, what the Atlas recognized as human and beastmen of several kindreds. "Ready a Bastion class vessel and load it with some of our lower grade goods from the stockroom closest and some eighty-thousand gold pieces as soon as possible." Vehuel ordered then raised his fist and declared, "The path before us shall be golden and honeyed!"

The Seven looked shocked at their Prince and declaring both the code of arms Guild and an order often spoken of from Ozzydamandadiuz; he was planning to open a trade route.

[][]

As the ship was being readied, he ordered Shiehk to follow him into his private chambers to discuss the plans ahead. "My Prince, truly try and understand my hesitancy of allowing you to go galivanting off to strange lands with a ship filled to the brim with gold; what if there are pirates? Raiders? Sea Monsters of some kind the Atlas couldn't even classify?"

"Then you will Gate us all back here and the only thing we lose is a ship and some meager cargo." Vehuel reached into a cloudy nimbus and retrieved a bundle of red vials to place in a pack.

"Even if my reaction- wait…" Her gaze grew distant, then her pupils formed slits in anger as she demanded, "You're taking me with you?!"

Vehuel turned to the Minister, "Of course! Considering all the Ministers and Mayors of the Forty-Two wards, you're the only one with a sense of business and will advise me, for a time at least." He opened a set of doors and revealed his bedchamber, a massive floating bed, several angelic statues that held weapons and armor, and a grand opening to the pre-dawn sky, lit only by small orbs of light that clung to the walls.

Shiehk held up a hand and closed her eyes, "Before you continue further; I must do something."

Before he even gave her permission to do so; she started walking towards the room's side and gave a short though furious roar of anger and frustration before she headbutted the wall so hard that a crack formed that reached the ceiling and made one of the statues fall over. Walking back to the Seraph, who somehow felt sweat forming on his armored exterior, nonchalantly with a line of red blood flowing from her forehead, down her nose and clotting at the fabrics in front of her mouth. "You do understand I have never, nor even had I ever wanted to, escape from this city?"

Vehuel thought for a moment, before repeating, "Why not?"

"There… was no need. I am safe here, I know here best, I was born here, grew up here, and by whatever gods that can will fate into being, I would die here." Shiehk looked down as she explained it all, and while she seemed earnest, she sounded… afraid and sad all at the same time.

Luis felt a shiv of sorrow at this, and while he never outright said it to him or Maxi, he was told by other members of the Gilded that Vincent had a daughter at one point, and she may have been taken from their home or possibly an even worse event that involved her. Vincent may have written into her material that she wouldn't ever want to leave what she considered home, and her 'father', being the Guild-Master of a Trading League in YGGRASSIL, almost never left the palace due to all the work.

Vehuel took a step towards Shiehk and placed a hand on her shoulder, regaining her attention, "If you are adamant of staying home, I will not force you, but of the companions I would have at my side to see fate made into being, you will be at the top; every time."

Shiehk looked at him in the 'eyes' and gave a defeated sigh, "You're already a lousy salesman. I have no choice but to help."

"Excellent!" Ignoring the insult, he gave an unconsciously joyful beat of his wings. "Next, I must be seen in a more habitable light, does your father have any clothes I can borrow?"

She blinked confusedly at him, "Why… would you want my father's garb?"

"Actually, yes… you are right… I will have to see beforehand if it is necessary. Stand back, I don't know if this will happen the same way it did in YGGDRASIL." The angel planted the Gungnir, lifted his hands and proclaimed; "[**His Feet, Part of Iron and Part of Clay!**]" And was then engulfed in a pillar of light for several seconds, Shiehk held tightly to her raiment's to keep them in place as an unnatural wind beat her and all else nearby in its might.

As the light dissipated, what he saw in the Prince's place was no longer a looming angel of armor, resonance and light, but something more human and humble in its stature; skin a grey-white with odd and irregular streaks of the same color at different tones lined his face, chest and limbs, and as he pulled his arms back, two wings of a more feathered appearance similar to hawks, eagles and other birds. He seemed to be bald, no hair on his head nor face, and his eyes were dark outside of its burning amber irises. He seemed like to those reanimated undead, constructed of magically summoned and poorly imitated hollow-flesh, but this carried no tone of gentle, rotting meat or bone, instead being made of strong, cold marble or granite.

Shiehk gaped at the alieness of it; never seeing the Seraph of Audacity in this form nor understanding how he could take it in the first place. "M-My Prince?"

He reached up to his face and smiled as his fingers felt his nose, eyes and lips. He blinked away his distraction and replied, "Yes, Minister?"

"What is this? What have you done?"

"I am an Angel, a heteromorph! We of enough power and with enough points into the appropriate racial classes can transform with words of power. This one makes me more physical and allows me to interact with the world to a far greater degree, allowing me to equip more mundane items and minimizes my massive weakness to unholy and dark magic. At the cost of greatly reduced stats of my holy magical abilities and being able to be harmed by unenchanted items." The one time he did this in YGGDRASIL, it only showed as a passive buff/debuff, nothing of his avatar changed like this!

"I-I see… um…" Her eyes floated downwards before her gaze snapped back up and she shrilly declared, "I'll get papa's clothes now!" Before turning back into gold-dust and leaving out of the vacant ceiling.

Vehuel shrugged at this, turning to a nearby mirror and admired himself. "Hey! Not bad! Always wanted a six pack! I wonder if I stay in this form long enough that hair will grow?" Looking at himself, he had to make a good story for why he looks so different? How would he introduce himself?

He paused in terror, "What if another Player is out there and needs help?" Vehuel grimaced, then looked back at his wings, concentrated on concealing them and was glad to see them turn into a pair of long tails of cloth that reached both over his chest and down past his buttocks. Looking like Stole Vestments, he concluded that it only fitted the theme between him and his three Archangels. "Maybe… if my trades are successful and they spread inland, they can carry something recognizable? A sign that there is someone out here from the same place? Maybe…"

"My Prince, I have returned with garments." Shiehk declared as she reemerged holding a wooden chest. "Would any of these do?"

[][]

The Chief marched up to the frontline of the barricade, one of the band leaders quickly running up to him and exclaimed, "Warchief!" Bowing his head, making his ears flop.

"Give me the report, how much longer will these humans fester in the castle?"

"We've starved them for three days, the supplies they scraped together won't be able to last them another."

"Good… I can feel the Roble army breathing down our necks… we'll need to wrangle these humans fast and put them on the ships." The Chief tapped the ground with a cloven hoof.

"Heh, might as well stay. We can take them, three to one if need be." Smiled the bandmember, flashing sharpened teeth.

"We won't be able to get home by land, the wall between here and Abelion would stop us, and while we can take armies larger, we cannot do the same on the sea." The chief huffed out. "And we need ships to get home at all."

"Chief! Chief!" A fast running Satyr ran up to the Minotaur leader, "There's a weird boat at the beach!"

"What? What do you mean 'weird'?"

[]

"You should have taken the girls with you, is all I'm saying." Shiehk shrugged as she looked on her parchments, accounting for the ships inventory.

"I think bringing your father's uh _harem_ women on board this ship would have been a bit unproductive." Vehuel began to explain as he patted down his odd, dark patterned vest and fluffy pants that stopped just under his knee.

"There were tw-, no, three reasons for their being; the first was a distraction. A lot of people doing deals can get easily sidetracked by their… attributes, make them mess up in a calculation or need reminders and allow you to sweeten the deal. The second, their numbers, devotion and diverse pallets of species gives the impression of experience, great wealth and worldliness, which is greatly sought after, and some may even defer to your opinion of exotic items that they are not familiar with. The third is uh… well the obvious." Shiehk waved the last point away. As she felt a rougher than usual rocking of the boat, she looked out a nearby window, seeing the dark waves of the sea and a barely illuminated morning sky. She gave a long, depressed sigh and looked back to the parchments in her hands.

Vahuel spotted this and smirked deviously, slowly creeped upon the minister while she was distracted. Stealthily reaching his hands slowly under her arms, fingers pointed towards her sleeves and then…

"Ah! HAHAHA! STOP STOP STOP!" Shiehk shrieked, throwing the papers to the air and wildly elbowing Vehuel in the face.

Despite the passive effect of being a Seraph, Walls of Jericho, these impacts really _hurt_, but it felt… unfilled, an almost hollow, distant or just the vague memory of pain. "You won't stop me that easily!" Vehuel declared and swung her down to the ground and continued his assault.

"SCHTOP GUNNA PEEEEEEeee~!" Shiehk started more violently then before, then her voice took a bashful pitch that made Vehuel stop and obverse what was wrong.

Somehow, his hands slipped in through her arm holes and feeling some odd lumps of warmth, he unconsciously squeezed and forced a low moan from his companion. "Hmm…" The Seraph said in an unusually composed tone, "Was always curious whether you were actually a woman under this…" But even as he continued his experimental molding, he looked down at her arms while the sleeves were pushed up, and instead of skin, he saw black scales and hardened ridges of cartilage that ran from her hand and up her arms.

A stream of smoke flowed from the face down Shiehk as she demanded in a tone that was epitome of threatening, "_**Get out of there before you lose your hands, angel…**_" With a damning calm that made Vehuel comply.

"S-sorry, all's fair in a tickle war." The Seraph shrugged and gave an awkward chuckle.

"What I'm going to do to when we return to Istannice will make you regret taking me with you." She threatened cheerfully. "I won't do it here, this is a very expensive ship."

Vehuel's cold sweat returned as he looked down at Shiehk. "Oh… that's…" Looking nervously to the side and scratching his chin. "Good?"

"Prince! Minister! We approach on land!" The captain of the ship, a Graeci covered in alchemically modified bronze armor along with a blue Cape of Waterwalking, opened the door and bowed.

"Good." Vehuel nodded, "Proceed."

"Aye, my Prince." And promptly left.

Vehuel gestured to the opening of the cabin, "Want to come with me? I'm curious to see how a Bastion does it."

Shiehk rose an eyebrow, "I doubt the crew would appreciate us getting in the way."

"I'm sure the boat is big enough for a couple tourists, come!" Vehuel opened his hand towards Shiehk and she begrudgingly grasped it with her gloved palm.

They marched carefully onto the deck just as the quinquereme began to slow from its cruising speed of twelves knots as it gained upon land. The crew on the top of the ship was engaged in their duties, running from one end of the deck to the other, going down ladders to the other four sections of the ship to give orders. The many Water-Elementals summoned to drive and guide the vessel were quickly forced back into their Conjurer's Boxes, the oars were retracted into the hull and the clicking and clacking of machinery filled the whole ship with rhythmic music, the hissing of steam and the turning of gears hummed their taxing screams as the Bastion sunk steadily and slowed quickly into the soft sands of the beach and met the dry shore that forced it to stop dead in its tracks.

"Oooo here it comes!" Vehuel started tapping on the Shiehk's shoulder and gave a frustrated scoff as they watched over the side of the deck.

Armored sections seamlessly conjoined at first sight, opened widely in twelves sections on each side, weakly reaching out as if it were some creature stretching its legs after a long rest. The 'legs' reminded Vehuel of crabs, long, scuttling limbs that ended in a sheer point, digging into the surface of the earth as it lifted itself to just be off its belly. Vehuel could see the mechanical bearings and clockwork from his vantage, burning white-hot metal pipes steaming as they give the massive beams and support rigs life, clashing starkly with the limbs that could be seen from the ground, piercing blocks of wood, electrum and barnacle plagued bronze.

"We have made land, sire." The captain approached the pair and announced.

"I see that, my friend! Now let us head further inland; barely a mile south-west of-"

"Captain!" One of the deck hands cried out, "Beastmen approach!"

"Arm ballistae, ready the marines and draw arrows!" The captain quickly ordered and drew a dart from his satchel, its edge glimmered a faint blue from the magic aura it was soaked in.

Vehuel's vision flashed orange in uncertainty but furrowed his brow and proceeded towards the front of the vessel to see what was happening.

There were over a hundred of them, arrayed chaotically in small bands spread across the Bastion's beach landing. Unless they had a one-hundred ten-foot tall ladder, siege tower or maybe a few magic-caster's specialized in mass teleportation or levitation; the Seraph doubted this band could even attack the ship. Many of the beastmen were gathered with their own kind, with Minotaurs in the front alongside Houndfolk with spears and blades, with Satyrs in the rear wielding bows, slings and lances.

"Ho! Bring out your leader! We need answers for this incursion!" A minotaur declared, raising a massive club over its head.

"I've seen bigger of his kind…" Vehuel whispered quietly, "Very well!"

Just as he was beginning to jump off the side, Shiehk grabbed his arm and spoke, "What are you doing?! You don't know how strong they are!"

"Unless one of them is the World-Champion in disguise, not much to worry about. Stay here, though, just in case I am as stupid as you think I am."

Shiehk gave a quiet huff of agreement and looked on as the Seraph fell downwards and, on his impact,, made a fairly sizable and remarkably malleable crater, cursing and muttering as he trudged out his feet, kicking up great swathes of sand as he climbed over the steep impact's sides. Wiping off more sand off his arms, "-gravity and all its damned frustrating nuances… what good is gravity anyway- ah hello!" Waving and smiling as he saw the Minotaur, gobsmacked, bamboozled and utterly befuddled of sanity from what he just witnessed along with his entourage. "First off; I must know! What are we uh 'incurring' on? My devices assumed this was just a multi-special settlement."

The minotaur forcibly closed his jaw and gave a strong breath of air through his nose. "A settlement only of force, outsider. You human?"

"I'm not sure anymore, to be perfectly honest." He looked down at his free hand and flexed his fingers into a fist, squeezing tightly and feeling only a withered, facsimile of blood warming in his digits and palm, Vehuel wasn't even sure if it was real or not, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, imitating what was to be expected. "Should be terrified what's been happening the last several hours, sometimes I was, but then… now I don't feel like how I used to… it's a tough thing to explain, but I shall only say… no. I don't think so." He looked back up at the minotaur, briefly disturbed by the confused expression it gave the angel and how real it was.

"Yeah… well, if you can survive _that_," Pointing at the top of the ship with his free hand, "I doubt I should get picky anyways. I am Hihgul, chief of the Bloodclaw Warband." He pointed towards his back with a thumb, "That's 'em by the way."

"They look formidable, you must be proud!" The angel smiled broadly, "I am Luis, Prince of Istannice, Seraph of Audacity, World-Defender Third-Place… um what else? Oh! Temporary Guild Leader of the Gilded, and uhhh… I think that's- no! Also, temporary Commander of Istannice and the City's Legion-Ten. That's pretty much it." He kept a hand to his chin as he searched for his titles, trying to sound impressive. It was a difficult thing to switch to the shoes Vincent wore in both a literal and metaphorical sense; he was usually the Gilded's representative for things like this, and if it wasn't Vin, it was Bethany, and if it wasn't Beth, it was Maxi. If it wasn't one of the three that founded the Guild, the event probably wasn't legitimately recognized. A frustrated gloom filled Luis's heart as he recalled how the others of the top Seven Gilded gave Luis the unofficial, if slightly understandable, title of the Guild's 'baby brother'. Now, he must go and play a prince, a leader and ruler in 'real life'?

"Oi! Didja hear me!?" Hihgul demanded impatiently as he received no response to his explanation.

Vehuel blinked, "Sorry, I was lost in thought!" He lifted both hands.

The minotaur huffed a chuckle and smiled, "Probably smarter than most of my boys already."

Vehuel grinned back, "That's not a bet I'm willing to take!"

"Ha! I like you, ya got a sense of humor!" He smiled widely at Vehuel before gesturing at the ship, "What are you guys doing here?"

Trying to remain serious, he forced his smile away and spoke, "We are looking for information, we are…" '_Damnit… I can't just say we were teleported to another world, but… the idea of lying… saying that he saw the commotion and wanted to know what was up seems _repulsive_… but… can't tell too much too quickly… vague, like Maxi would suggest!'_ "We're strangers to these new shores and wish to know who and what are further inland!"

"This place you hail from? Istannice, right? Never heard of it. Nor seen _anything _like your boat over here. How far away did you come?"

"Um… a few hours… _that_ way, I think. I don't know, you'll have to ask the captain, don't know anything about sailing."

"Hm. Nothing that way but water only fish can drink."

"Not anymore! It's a wonderful place! An island wonderland! My City Ever-Sweet!"

"You a trader or something? 'Cause I'm starting to like what you're selling!"

Vehuel smiled, turned on his heal and pointed back towards the ships deck, "Ha-ha! Not so bad after all!" To a certain Minister. Spinning back around and continuing, around in a flash, he proclaimed, "Still, regardless of my intentions here, what are you and your band doing here? Where are the humans?"

"Yes. We've been a bit sloppy, and when we came here to round up some shore-sided targets, they spotted our ships and every village from the Wall to Hoburns ran and hid, over a thousand are holed up in that castle over there." Gesturing vaguely to the camp over his right shoulder to the camp a mile or so away. "I don't have enough men to risk a charge, even if the fort's walls are old and crumbling, they got hot tar, boulders and enough spears and arrows to make me worried, so we're starving 'em out." Scratching his mane of hair in exhausted capitulation, "But we may have to take the captives we already have and leave to the sea before one of the human armies come around."

Vehuel's demeanor no longer carried a tone of cheerfulness or welcome, his eyes were sown wide, his lips strained in a wry line and his hand gripped Gungnir in harsh, barely contained outrage. "You're slavers?"

"Ha! The humans here are lucky, most Minotaurs outside my kind's homeland simply eats them_."_

The orange aura flared in his vision, and Vehuel was overcome with hatred, the desire, no, _need_ to slay this wicked creature and send his soul to whatever hellish afterlife he most certainly should be condemned to! '_No no no no no!_' he yelled within himself, trying to reign in this bizarre, bottomless wrath, '_This weird effect not only makes me fearless but makes me angry?!'_

Vehuel panted audibly, grabbing Gungnir with both hands and leant on it, trying to keep both the weapon and him grounded, away from lashing out. '_I don't want to kill anyone!_' Seeing this minotaur, alive and conscious, not just a non-playable character in YGGDRASIL, as monstrous as his actions must be, _must_ have a reason! There is a way to fix this, return him home! There is a…

"Ah, looks like you've been on that boat for too long. Say, I have a couple of human women that will need some looking after, and I'll give you and your sailors good prices! We need to lighten the load back home as much as possib-" Hihgul was silenced and took a step back in shock, looking down at his chest and saw the human plunging a spear in his chest. The minotaur barely felt it, and still didn't even as his life slipped away with the silence of his heart.

Vehuel didn't have the look Hihgul expected from this parlay betrayal. Smug he could understand a bit, and gods knowing, he would be condemning his face down to the afterlife and beyond for this dishonor. Angry, absolutely. Some people don't like slavery, regardless if its their own species or not. Most don't do anything about it. What Hihgul saw on the small creature was fear. He only started to smell the emotion when he fell to his side, and it only became worse when he heard his boys start to approach the prince in retribution. Vehuel's hands fought his arm's motions, reminding the beastman of a strained fishing line and the game hunters that struggled to pull the creatures fast out of the lake and wrest control of them onto dry land.

Whatever fish the princeling snagged; it was bigger than he was.

Vehuel cried out, "Stay away! Stay back!" He was earnest in his warnings, but they all fell on deaf ears and even through the fast and intensely bright aura flared, and what was left of his control was quickly dwindling, replaced with the urge to bathe in the deaths of these sinners, these evildoers, abhorrent creatures in the eyes of righteousness filling by the milliseconds, he still managed to keep himself from going forth and slaying them all.

As archers fired their missiles in quick succession, frustrated as they bounced harmlessly off his hide, before being shot down themselves by the archers on top of the massive ship, Houndfolk approached him with unnatural speed, pointing their spears at the grey-human that felled their leader. Their forms were perfected with years of vigorous training, honed through dozens of battles with humans, monsters and other beastmen, their strength; the pique of their specie's abilities and as the three struck at their enemy's front, left and right flanks, seeing the ends of their steel spears break and splinter against his iron like skin; they knew the vengeance they had attempted was futile, the desire to see this creature impaled and roasted over a fire, replaced by cold dread.

In an eyeblink, before any physical reaction could be committed after the trio's failed attack; two wings folded out from behind the creature's back, striking out against the Satyrs towards his sides while also slashing with his spear to the remaining one at his front. The leader of the pack, as he tumbled downwards, his lower half fall to the ground, blood quickly pooling and meeting his cheek as he drifted into oblivion.

Vehuel looked on at the terrified greeting party, the need to cling to his humanity only hanging by a thread, and while he may seem to be only standing stoically to his newly made adversaries, his vision was nearly blinded in the burning luster of the orange aura… '_Cannot… _must _not…_' the realization that he could not fight the effect forever coming to his mind… the need to give in and allow this… element into his mind and soul too bewitching… too tempting…

So… Luis let go… and Vehuel declared, "_**You all will suffer the ultimate punishment!**_" He lifted a hand to the heavens and cried out, "**「****All Flesh is Grass****」****!**"

The body of Vehuel started to burn out with a fire that first erupted from his mouth and eyes, and his ruined flesh began to fold into itself like thin, cheap parchment thrown into flame, the fiery shape of the man still remaining as the fold became smaller and smaller until it burst forth with a terrible light that blinded most of those beastmen closest, so severe was the illumination that the morning sun seemed as dark as dawn it had just recently escape.

Out forth, strode a being, towering at eight feet if not more, constructed solely of golden armor, a tabard of gleaming white from his groin to his knees, a floating halo as wide as his shoulders hovered a foot above him, between the middle of a pair of wings, sown of the fire he was forged from. "**Nothiel, I call upon thee and three of thy soldiery!** **We shall cleanse this land of the profanity that affronts noble-Creation!**" Four beams of red light shot from the sky and what fell on the ground were four others, angels to be sure, but none that the beastmen could recognize as those they've seen before, and none as imposing as the one that beckoned them to the battlefield. "**Reduce the number of the beastmen army to a single, most wicked of their ranks! Redeem the others in sword and fire!**"

In a silent compliance that was near defending against the affronting wails of mercy and desperate hatred of their near defenseless adversaries, the angels flew forward on wings of flame, holy magics of terrible might poured from their palms even while they cleave, carved and claimed countless other lives with their arming blades, short swords and spears.

The crew of the Bastion watched on both in awe and a kind of fear of how easily a handful of the angelic beings from the Seventh Legion began to cut down so many beings in so quick a time and without a single moment of hesitation. Shiehk herself was disquieted, a feeling of concern over Vehuel whom just moments before was unbecomingly jovial and warm, but now, she saw why he was on equal footing with the other Harshad, and most importantly, the other Princes. He was not the smartest, wisest, nor the most cunning, which his brothers and sisters had in spades and stars, but he was the fiercest, the strongest, and most martially adept. How can someone so oddly warm cut down dozens, change so drastically from kind to ruthless?

Shiehk gave a small flinch as he heard Vehuel bellow another warcry, point towards the poorly maintain castle some distance away with his bloody spear and order, "**Onwards brothers!**"

[]

Part 2 will be out soon. Real soon. Maybe even tomorrow. I had to split this one into two pieces so it can be more easily managed and read, and the second half needs some finer tuning. See ya then!


	2. Chapter 1: Part 2

Chapter One: Part Two-

"Theo?" Evan groaned groggily, padding where his nephew was sleeping on the wall next to him. "Theodore?!" Quickly standing, his rusting plate armor chaffing anew against his barely clothed body.

The militiaman took off from the wall and ran from one side of the crude camp inside the crumbling walls of Castle Whiteshore to the other, crying out "Theo?! Where are ya?!" Fearing that the beastmen outside the castle had suddenly spawned fliers overnight and plucked him from his spot while they slept.

Evan was soaked in sweat by the time he returned to his little corner of the wall, in random happenstance rather than forethought or with a plan in mind, and saw an equally confused thirteen year old boy with red hair like his own, holding his spear and wearing his helmet.

"Where were you?" Theo questioned, grinning as he looked his uncle up and down.

"That's my question, punk!" Evan marched towards the slightly panicked Theo and quickly snatched the helmet from his head. "Gimme that!" Taking the spear from his hand, "Now, where were _you!?_"

Theo sighed, "Nowhere, I was just on the wall and all, you know how few men we-!"

"I swear, if your mother gets back and finds out that I let her only kid get eaten by beastmen, she'll have that damn doctor she's an apprentice of castrate me, fry my manhood and then feed it to me! I don't care if you're off taking a shit, you don't move without me at your side!" Pointing at his face sternly.

"You needed the sleep." Theo looked to the side ashamed and crossed his arms.

Evan clenched and unclenched his jaw, "How long were you up there?"

"Just four hours! The other militia and knights would more than able to-!"

"You know; I've never hit a kid, but you're making me think it's necessary. You." Placing his fist on Theo's chest, "Don't. Go. _Anywhere_. We could die tomorrow, or the day after that, but until then, we're gunna nap around in our own little safe, stony paradise as far away from the beastmen as possible. No buts, boy."

Theo looked so frustrated that he was near tears, "I have to do something! There's no food, no water, and if we're gunna die, at least I'll do it on my feet and not like some coward taking a nap in the castle's corner."

"Gods, no wonder my sister went abro-" Evan started to sigh before he choked on his breath when a pillar of light erupted off the castle's northside. "Holy-!" Without instructions, every man, woman and child found a hole to look through the wall, a portcullis or dared fate and climbed to the top of the walls to see what was happening. Not too far in the distance, something _really_ got the attention of the beastmen, those who manned the barricades no longer willing to continue their duty, turning towards the light and rushing towards its source.

The mayor of a town some miles away with a name that neither uncle nor nephew could remember quickly declared, "This might be our chance! Get the horses ready!"

One of the knights, Ser Jannune from one of the southern province's cities, quickly marched up, "We don't know what the hell that is! This castle might be what'll protect us from something that could make _that_!" Pointing at the pillar with his gauntleted fist.

"You think that this pile of rocks will stop something as powerful as you think?! No! We are getting the women and children out while we can, if you want to stay in the castle please do so! More horses for them!"

"Fool! We stay!"

Evan's rolled his eyes at the debacle, this unshakeable tragedy between the northern and southern sides of his homeland playing out once more, dragging his gaze to the distance. Quite a few trees between where the castle was and the beach, and if he squinted, he could almost see something… his eyes widened in shock. "Gentlemen?"

"To hell with priority of resources, knight! You protect the citizens of this land from these creatures, as is your duty!"

"Why are reinforcements coming from the east…?" Evan whispered, "Uh guys?" A panicked tone leaked into his request, feeling the sudden urge to urinate at the encroaching sight.

"Dung eating moron! How can we know what's out there what kill you just by being in sight! Be a coward for the next day rather then see your people dead in the next five minutes!"

"Those aren't the ones we use… that means…" Evans turned to the castle and screamed in terror, "It's the fucking Slane!" Grabbing Theo and nearly tossing him towards the ladder, yelling in horror "Run! Everybody RUN!"

"How'd they deploy angels all the way here?!" "How many?!" "How fast will they get here?!" Were among the questions that came up. Evan wasn't sure on any case, but he knew for certain that if the Slane Theocracy could deploy their troops this deep without anyone notice; an invasion was right around the corner and the beastmen were now the least of their worries.

"You rode a horse before, right boy? Okay, you're getting uh on me with this one!"

"That's the knight's!"

"Then he can afford us borrowing it, now get on!" Lifting his nephew and dropping him on the ass end, before he swung his legs over and whipped the reigns when he was barely ready, bucking onto the small of his back and nearly knocking Theo off the damn beast. "Open the gate!" Evan ordered as they jumped over the crude camps and avoided the passersby. The guards, delirious from fatigue, thirst and hunger, complied immediately, but as the gate opened, Evan gave a surprised shriek as the angels, different from what Evan's seen before in the army, so close that when the big one locked its eyeless gaze on them, the horse cried out and reared so high that not only were its riders thrown off to the mired mud, the horse tumbled to its side in a fright, before trying to run the same direction they came from. "Close it, close it, close it!" Evan squawked to the guards, scooping up his nephew and following the now fear crazy mount deeper into the castle. "They're here!" The men still ontop of the wall quickly rushing to the opposing side of the castle.

[][]

Vehuel looked down at the last of the beastmen in the area for the moment, a houndfolk male, maybe just over twenty. Brown of hair and blue of eye… probably had parents, a mate, siblings… why did he feel nothing? How many has he killed today and the only sensation that can even glimpse emotional discomfort is the simmering, fading rage he now feels in his chest, cooled now only in the blood of seemingly hundreds of people… he lifted his gaze to his free hand, gore dripped from his armor to the dry ground and felt… _nothing_. Then he felt angry at feeling nothing. Which was a confusing situation, to say the least. 'Is nothing human left in me?' Had Luis and him making this particular character, with its lines of backstory, somehow changed him when his… mind, soul, personality, whatever, came to this world? "I am Lawful Neutral…" Vehuel spoke aloud on an impulse as his mind trailed through a disturbing theory. 'My oath as a Paladin was the Oath of Conquest and was targeted specifically at characters with negative karma.' Maybe this somehow compelled Vehuel to act the way he did… a crusader… a creature of 'wicked righteousness', "Maxi… I need help…" Luis silently prayed to his brother of 'righteous wickedness', as he clenched his fist and brought it up to his face.

How could he stop this from happening again? What would it take to overcome this… influence? Breaking his oath? What would that even take, and what would be the result, how would it affect not only his personality but his other classes and skills?

"Seraph…" Nothiel approached from Vehuel's right and humbly attempted to gain his mentor's attention, "… we bring you the one you asked, a most evil creature awaits your judgement."

The Seraph faced the archangel, whom in turn gestured to his own angels, floating gently over the ground, each carrying the Satyr with a single limb, the woman facing downwards, hiding her features.

Setting the beastman down on the earth, Vehuel looked between the prisoner and the nearby castle, uncertain of what was the truest priority: ensuring that the humans are alright or placating the aura from effecting him again. The people knew he was here, and definitely saw his intent with the beastmen, and was fearful he may have stained their first encounter with these people before they even met, but the thought of trying to understand how the other angels identified this being in particular nagged him, and Vehuel chanted, looking at the Beastman as she started to push herself off the ground, "「**Detect Good and Evil**」" And his vision was filled with a menagerie of colors, curves and a kind of depth of understanding at a simple glimpse that seemed to pry forth into his gaze the ethics and mannerisms of everyone and thing he could glimpse with the naked eye.

The Satyr was kneeling and panting, eyes glazed in dazed bewilderment followed by a horrified stillness as she looked up and saw five angels surrounding her. "Am I… dead?" She asked, looking to the ground in a depressed serenity.

"Soon." Nothiel stated simply, placing his arming sword, Ringil, gently on her exposed neck. "With your leave, my prince?" It's single edged was tinged a crimson hue so deep, Vehuel was uncertain if its silvery sheen would ever return.

Vehuel shook his head, "Not yet." taking a finger and lifting her chin, having to stoop in order to do so due to his massive height. The satyr closed her eyes, tears welling their corners and she barely stifled her sobs. "What is your name?"

"Aliyth." She mumbled from clenched teeth.

"Your garb… you are a magic-user, yes? How long have you been enslaving these lands and beyond?"

"T-Ten years."

"Do you know how many have suffered and continue to suffer from your choices?"

Aliyth's brow was forcedly furrowed in anger as she finally managed to open her eyes. She gave a sharp intake of breath before she spat at the angel's helm and said, "Not enough. And more will when our ships come back!"

Vehuel had to look away for a moment to settle his momentary anger, snapping his gaze back to the Satyr. "**「****Command****」****!**" The angel extended his palm, a glyph briefly appearing.

Aliyth's defiant gaze snapped into panic as her body ceased in its voluntary functions and he continued with, "**「****Make no hostile action nor attempt escape****」****!**"

The Satyr numbly nodded before Vehuel looked to the other angels, "Go to the vessel at the beach, tell them of our victory and to prepare the ship to take on the humans, and take the prisoner with you."

Nothiel watched as the lesser angels bowed slightly, took the beastman under her arms and began to fly towards the shore, and when they were comfortably far away, walked a pace towards Vehuel, "Prince, why take a prisoner? Surely she will prove uncooperative with whatever you intend."

Luis felt a tinge of shame for what he had planned, "_Haoma-Dannoto_."

If Nothiel had had eyes, he would have stared at Vehuel with horror, "You intend to feed her to the Hell-Tree?"

"It would extract her XP- I mean, her experiences, and we may learn more about this… odd assortment of beastmen from the Mortal Fruit grown from her." The World-Item was nestled in Maxi's personal area, right under the palace, and hadn't been used since Ozzydamandiuz stopped coming to lead the guild, harvesting enemy NPCs to improve their own. Vehuel remembered how the tree absorbed the experiences and memories of its victims in its fluff, and it can impress on those that eat its fruit. Hopefully, with this New World and all it has changed with Istannice and its populace, it will be a bit more literal and give him some answers.

"Um, Prince? Are you alright?"

Vehuel peaked at him past his fingers, "Son, please return to your brothers at the ship. Take this to the Minister." Presenting Gungnir, Nothiel's red robes fluttered as he quickly bowed at the waist as he took it and flew to rejoin his angelic siblings. The Seraph turned towards the castle and called out, "**Vanniel, I call upon thee!**"

A beam of light struck out of the sky in front of Vehuel, and out walked an angel that was shorter then any in the legion, being only six feet, the angel was draped in a yellow mantle over silvery armor curving subtletly over what were to be mammaries and a slimmer waist. "My Prince!" Vanniel placed a fist on the center of her chest. "How may I serve?"

"There's a lot of scared humans in that castle, Archangel of Compassion." Vehuel pointed to the castle, "We need to get them to safety and time is short to gain their trust."

Vanniel gave a quick nod before she chanted,"**「****His Feet, Part of Iron, Part of Clay****」**"

[][]

"God, four leave, then one comes back…" The knight sighed, placing his hand against the castle's wall. "I've never seen angels actually talking to one another… are you sure they're under Slane control?"

Evan stared at the newcomer, "Never seen a woman either."

The men blinked and refocused their gaze at the angel only to be blinded by brief, intense flame that exploded out of the intruder.

After the fire's luminescence died down, the onlookers peeked over the stoney edges of the castle and gasped at the sight of the completely bald, nude woman whom had sprung wings from her back. "Hey, look away kid!" Evan tried to cover Theo's face, but was too distracted in his own observations that he failed block his nephew's. The angel-woman spoke a spell and was soon covered in heavy yellow robes of that hid her modesty, sobering the on lookers some, especially as the pair began to walk towards the castle.

"What should we do?" The mayor asked the knight, surprising the later with his deference towards him.

"Prepare for the worse, get the women and children out through the back with what ever that can get them safely over and… what's that peasant doing?!" He exclaimed and pointed as Evan began to tip over the cauldron of tar.

[][]

"Alright…" Vehuel commented plainly, "How do you want to do this?"

"What do you mean, father?" The archangel turned her head slightly, but her expression didn't change in the least.

'Maybe they don't know _how _to do facial expressions… maybe I should make my angels attain human form more often to teach them.' "Yes, a test my child. What would be the-?" Vehuel looked up at the top of the gate as he was doused in a considerable amount of searing black, smelly tar. He was frozen in his position, Vehuel's minds having difficulty wrapping around what exactly just happened and how to react.

Vanniel's mouth was agape with worry, 'Is this a part of father's test?' But as she saw the sticky tar begin to re-liquify and bubble and boil off the Seraph's growing rage, she concluded it wasn't. "F-father, be calm, they are merely mortals, they do not know what they-"

Vehuel gave an angered cry, his form briefly burning with a red luminance, before leaping off the ground, flying over the gate and swooping down to throttle the one at the tar-bucket and lifting him up with his burning grasp for all to see. Still coated in flecks of dry tar, he inched the terrified humans face close to his own and demanded, "_**WHY THIS OFFENCE, HUMAN?!**_" And a not a moment later he 'sighed', which partially unnerved Evan, as it sent a tremor through his body though the angel's arm. "I am not here to harm you, if I was, that tar nor your crumbling walls wouldn't have stopped me." The massive digits that dug into the man's flesh cooled, but only slightly. Grabbing him under the shoulder's, Vehuel descended quickly towards the inner areas of the castle, noting Vanniel was already talking with several of their numbers, despite the spears and bows pointed her way.

"W-where did… who are you angels?" The human hesitantly inquired.

Vehuel thought of answering but remained silent as they neared the ground.

"You guys definitely aren't Slane, I can see th-"

"Be silent and I will be less inclined to drop you." Vehuel warned lowly. While the human believed him, the seraph was confident that unless his quarry started speaking his life story at near light speed, he wouldn't have dropped him. It's odd, how he did indeed desired to threaten the man to silence, but his thoughts were repulsed by outright lies.

As the pair met the ground and the human quickly returned to his kind, a boy-man rushing to his side. 'A son? Brother?' Vehuel could have killed him for his insult but the fact of this revelation didn't seem to disturb him.

"Seraph…" Vanniel respectfully inclined her head as she explained, "These humans wish to know of our allegiances, they believe us to be a beastmen trick." Gesturing to a colorfully dressed, plump man with a scraggily, graying brown beard and an armored man a head and half taller then the former and half as young.

"Our allegiances? Hmph." The seraph shook his head, "We know of no others besides ourselves, we are strangers to these lands. In fact, we came here for information in this regard."

"Then why attack the beastmen?" The knight asked. "They clearly weren't a threat to you, considering the masses of bodies your made."

"I detest slavers." Vehuel stared straight at the knight, "Getting rid of them was vermin control, nothing more. Now, in exchange for saving you and taking you on my vessel to wherever you need to go in order to be safe; who in the Seven Circles of Hell are you, what country is this and why are there beastmen preying upon you?" Vehuel gestured to Vanniel, "And she is by far a superior talker then I, so while you two are talking…" A blue glyph appeared on his free hand, "**「****Create: Food and Water****」**!" Three large barrels of water alongside boxes of bread and cooked but unseasoned vegetables. "I'll provide you with what nourishment your kind require."

Over maybe a half hour, Vehuel did his duty as the most boring, if useful, conjurer on this side of this new world, roaming the filthy and desperate camp and occasionally plopped down more food and water, what guards that were around quickly took positions next to these locations, ensuring that the supplies were evenly distributed, while Vanniel did her duties as Archangel of Compassion and by the time the Seraph made a full circle back to the angel and the human leaders, Vanniel carried a small smile as she greeted her maker, "All is agreed upon."

The mayor looked withdrawn, as the knight explained; "We will take up your offer to use your ship, we'll follow the coast southwest and then continue south to the city of Rimun."

He nodded towards Vanniel, before speaking, "We must make haste, gather your people as fast as you can and head-"

"**Prince!**" Shiehk messaged him.

The seraph withheld his spastic impulse to react wildly to the sudden voice, "Excuse me." He offered to the crowd before turning and walking away several paces, placing a finger to his 'ear' and asked, "**What is it Minister?**"

"**Three vessels have been spotted climbing down the coast, if we have to evacuate people, we need to start now or we'll not have enough time to reach the water and flee.**"

Vehuel returned to the group and stated, "Change of plans; we leave now, take only what you need, a number of ships have been spotted, we must assume they are beastmen."

A flurry of commotion was traded between the mayor and knight, whom quickly spread it like a disease to the humans in general where it mutated into near panic but was quickly channeled into funneling out of the castle and towards the beach and the massive metal beast that rests there.

Looking to Vanniel, Vehuel ordered, "Go with them, they seem to trust you somewhat and will probably feel more comfortable with you in the hold."

Giving that feint if sincere smile, "Your will, father."

"Father?!" A man exclaimed.

Looking over, he saw that one damned human from earlier, glaring daggers at him into silence, covering the boy with a shoulder and quickly remerging with the others.

"He was trying to protect his nephew." Vanniel meekly stated. "He was certain we were summoned and controlled by a rival nation some distance from here. He feared the worst when you were at the gate."

"Admirable. Foolish, but admirable." Vehuel placed a finger to his ear and messaged Shiehk, "**Use detection spells to spot which ships have humans.**"

"**I see… one, filled heavily with them, maybe just over a two hundred souls, the farthest one behind the fleet.**"

"**When the ships unload their troops; target a ship without humans, strike at my signal; you'll understand it when you see it.**"

"**I hate it when you're cryptic.**"

Uncertain if Shiehk meant to send that or sent it merely by accident, Vehuel disconnected, "I'll stay here."

Vanniel blinked, "For what reason? There are almost a thousand beastmen coming this way. If you wish to try and negotiate with them, I would wish to be with you as well!"

"I do not know what I intend." The sentence came too calmly out of him, and continued with, "I wish to see what stock these people place in their reasoning, the ones sent before them may have been merely pawns in their game and… I desire their fear against me."

Vanniel spoke uncertainly, "This… _desire_… is unseemly for a seraph."

Momentary forgetting himself, Vehuel thought hard on this. 'I'm immune to fear, get angry over injustice, don't mind killing obviously… but not all of human emotion have been stripped from me. I want to fight… fully in control, see how it feels… wouldn't angels, of all the races from YGGDRASIL, be bereft of desire?' "Desire… might be the incorrect word," He quickly thought aloud, "I wish to see if this world is like the last, we may have to adapt to a whole new set of laws, rules and methods of engagement in the future, I would use myself as a test in this regard."

Vanniel looked almost relieved, her brow relaxing, "I see, I understand now."

"Please, leave me, I wish to prepare alone."

Vehuel heard Vanniel bow before joining the last of the mass line of humans, and when they were a fair enough distance away, "Idiot, idiot, idiot…", paced to a castle wall, leant backwards slightly then threw his head towards it with all his might. A single grouping of bricks flew out towards the sea, shocking the seraph. "Whoa…" Luis spoke lowly in awe, but quickly regained himself and spoke, "Have to be much more careful about this, who knows how loyal these NPCs will be when they realize I'm not what I look like, _why am I talking to myself_?" Vehuel proclaimed, as quietly as he could to see if it still worked; "**「**His feet, part of iron, part of clay**.****」**" And grinned broadly when not did the effect occur, but seemed to mirror the inconspicuous mode which he said it and the transformation was much less dramatic, explosive and immeasurably faster, and walked out of the small pillar of smoke in the false-flesh more comfortably then he was in his armor, placed a thumb to his chin and thought aloud, "But maybe there's a player in the beastmen territories? Or the people there are frequenters of other places and players might exist there?" He still had the plan of flooding the areas with items from YGGDRASIL so that it would lead back to Istannice, but maybe he could also do something else, something far more direct and impactful on the world then simple trading?

[]

Shaman-Chief Morghar looked out across the forest before looking back and seeing his troops continuing to vacate the ships, the Thegns still arguing between not only each other but their warriors as well who leaves and who stays on the ship to guard the humans. Morghar rolled his deep red eyes at them, bored long ago from his kinsfolk's infighting, despite how cosmopolitan the Abelion Hills have become with the other kindreds, they still bicker like their human neighbors. One would think neighboring such a bountiful source of prey that such squabbles would have been eradicated.

"「Find Allies! 」" Morghar proclaimed, jutting his staff forward, the teeth of the hundred other shamans of his line banging against the Cyprus-wood. A radiant, yellow wave that scoured the flora in front of him, quickly disappearing from his view, delving over into the forest for over a league.

Stroking his white beard, fondling the charms in his hair as he waited for the spell to return to him. His ears twitched slightly as it heard the approach of one of the MinoKnights, "No sign of the Bloodclaws then?"

"None, chief." Planting his great axe in the sand, "How can 'em humans kill all 'em boys? Just farmers 'n some knights."

Despite the ineloquence of his underling's speech, Morghar nodded, "A good question." Feeling a particularly grim feeling at the prospect that they were somehow killed, despite all information of the area suggesting it was impossible, the Shaman proclaimed another spell; "「Detect: Dead!」" Both beastmen looked on aghast as the forest lit up in pockets of grey light, outlining the numerous cadavers and corpses.

Quickly barking out a series of orders, he was interrupted by a human walking through the tree line and declaring, "You have lost, raiders!"

Taken aback from the order, Morghar raised his hand up towards the ships and gave a sharp, loud bark, stopping every member of the band where they stood and approached the stranger with a rough huff of air out of his nose, "You, come!" He ordered without looking at the Minoknight, the massive creature following his heels closely, almost fearful of what they approach like a shy child or a terrified pet, even as it held its massive weapon.

The shaman looked around, seeing birds picking at fresh gore, the smell of the dead meeting his senses even before that. Morghar took only a pinch of comfort knowing that their intelligence gathering wasn't as comatose as he initially thought, but even this modicum of solace was removed when he realized that this creature had a force that could deal with one of his own in mere hours, far from any form of human settlement or fortress. He felt a tinge of sweat form at the possibility that it still may lay in ambush, out of sight, smell or any other sense that beastmen may possess.

The Gor, as he paced to the intruder, recognized that he may have been premature as labeling the being as human. He stood unusually still, flesh of greys and eyes even the wildest and most bizarre of the various beastmen kindred do not have, all amidst a baldness that disquieted Morghar, being near a dozen paces away, called out, "I assume that you are the commander of the force that destroyed the Bloodclaws."

"I am indeed, to whom am I speaking?" His bizarre attire had an audible ruffle with every movement as he gestured between himself and Morghar.

"I am Morghar, chief and shaman of the Bright-Teeth, Warherd in command of the Womb-Eaters, Ironstars and formerly of the Bloodclaws, you?"

Instead of looking overly confident or boastful, he looked concernedly between the pair and the veritable army behind him. "Please." Gesturing to the ground with a hand before sitting. "We must talk."

"You expect me to treat among the very dead you killed?!" The albino Gor demanded with a jab of his finger.

"If we don't talk, I will be forced to add you and yours to their ranks." The man's hand reached forward and was enveloped into the Item Box, where he pulled out an iron kettle, steam pouring out every crevice as it met the frigid, dusky air. "Tea?"

Morghar was taken aback by this only a moment before smiling, "By all means." Beginning to sit and gesturing for his companion to do the same.

Trying to piece together everything and plan out what he will order his warherd's other casters, Morghar stared as three goblets were placed in front of them and filled with the warm liquid, the smell reaching both beastmen and the heavenly scented beverages immediately whetted a parched thirst neither knew they had, but caution bade them to wait and see if the stranger drank first, whom did so a moment after, but instead of smiling or speaking further on demands of the warherd, his face took a sour expression as he looked at his drink, "I don't think I even have a sense of taste." He stated outloud and looked to the beastmen, "Please try it, I'm afraid I might have prepared the wrong brew!"

Morghar blew lightly into the cup before sipping lightly off the top and gave a content sigh as he smacked his lips, "Ah best thing to happen on this expedition! What is this?" The Gor's mood lightened so drastically he barely noticed it until the stranger smiled back at him.

Before he answered, the Minoknight almost meekly requested, "Uh, can I have that? Not much for me to start with." Lifting the goblet that seemed tiny in comparison to his palm as he pointed at the kettle.

"Of course!" Lifting the kettle towards the taur, whom took it gladly and drained its contents directly into his maw, humming gleefully. "Ah! Where are my manners? I am Prince Vehuel, I came here seeking answers, I have one of your magic-users as my prisoner for that very reason and I'm here to deliver an ultimatum; leave now, warn your people I am coming to end whomever desires to continue this abominable conflict between these humans and your people." Vehuel's hand dipped into the item-nimbus once more and pulled out another kettle, "Anymore?"

Both Beastmen looked worriedly between themselves but Morghar steeled himself, glared at Vehuel, placing his goblet down with enough force the steaming contents spilled all over his hand before standing, "Whatever force you have mustered; it cannot defeat us now. There are more than twice the men on the shore now you encountered, dozens more combat and magic specialists. Perhaps your force is better equipped and trained, but eventually the swarm of bees will bring down the pack of hounds."

Vehuel grimaced, "To be honest, I knew you'd say something like that. I expected I'd feel disappointed, but I don't, can't tell if that's a bad thing." Vehuel himself stood, "Take your men home, save their lives, abandon what slaves you have collected here and now."

"I refuse." Morghar forced a defiant smile, "I thank you for the beverage, know I will endeavor to recreate it when I raise your corpse as my thrall in unlife."

"Very well." Vehuel pointed at the sky and cast, "「Firebolt! 」!" A burning sphere shot from his fingertip and fled into the clouds.

"Ah very crude, why waste the magic in using an attack spell as a flare?" Morghar scoffed before looking to his companion, "Minoknight, punish his stupidity."

The taur hefted up its massive axe, and swung it down onto the unmoving Vehuel, the weapon cleaved across his torso in a slant from that met at the nape of his neck and the iron head was so massive that it met the grassy ground near his feet. Or so it seemed at first.

Vehuel gave a small smile, "How rude," Cracking his neck, as he placed his fingers on the axe head, pushed it off his body and made both the Minoknight and shaman stare in disbelief; the axe hadn't damaged the man in the slightest, instead, the axe itself was peeled back from the impact against him. "Seems this low tier material was effected by my physical resistance. Curious." He commented as he pinched the axe between his finger and thumb, steadily pushing the taur back with his attacker's weapon without any visible effort even as the Minoknight huffed and growled pushing back to resist. "Look back to your raiders, old goat." Vehuel gestured at the ships with his chin.

Morghar looked back, and with sudden horror, observed as one of the ships was rendered into splinters, what men were still aboard flying in every direction as a single, burning red lance penetrated the whole and seemingly forced it to combust before it turned directions suddenly and returned to the sea's horizion.

"I beg you to reconsider." Vehuel toned, "How many more men do you have to lose before you desire to take the rest home?"

Morghar stared at the remains of his warherd, his mouth agape and dry, stunned and nearly catatonic, "T-Those men…" a strong breeze suddenly blew from behind the gor followed by a shrew and unintelligible curse from the taur, and as the albino turned to face the creature who wielded such power, Morghar immediately knelt as he gazed upon a golden angel.

"Boss?!" The Minoknight had dropped the axe the moment the human changed into its new form, "What are we doin'?!"

"I… will release the captives…" The gor almost mumbled, "Spare the rest of my men."

"Boss, no! We must avenge those he killed!" The Minoknight drew a 'short' sword at his hip and pointed it at the shaman. "You spit on all who've died here and every single one of your ancestors!" Turning its gaze back to the angel, he yelled, "「Piercing Strike! 」"

The angel mumbled a confused, "Wait-" As the beastman lunged towards Vehuel, whom put up a hand defensively albeit slowly, which offered more then enough time for the shimmering red shortsword to be plunged into its new home. Vehiel's chest wasn't pierced, nor did it seem effected at all.

The taur glared in defiant disbelief, "Impossible! I stabbed through a stonewall before!" Struggling to keep the point pressed on the angel's chest.

"That was no spell from YGGDRASIL…" Vehuel boomed at the shocked beastman, "What in the Seven Hells did you do?" While far from doing any noticeable damage that due to his Second Form's immunity towards unenchanted attacks, but he somehow _knew_ the attack would have bypassed fifteen percent of his armor rating from that single attack. Considering killing two birds with one stone; Vehuel reached his hand out, the will to feel a weapon within in his hands becoming manifest in holy light that burned so fiercely that it scorched the grass to ash underfoot, a massive length of divine power stretching to the length of a massive great sword of luminosity, "Stop now, or die!" Trying to ignore the orange aura that briefly affected him.

The Minoknight brought the sword back, "NEVER! 「Piercing Strike! 」" He yelled out and stabbed once more.

The shortsword didn't meet the angel again, the holy blade flashed through the beastman effortlessly, the taur stepping forward a pace, a startled expression on his face, dropping to his knees as he let go of his sword. "By all my ancestors… what are you?" As it stretched its neck to look up at the angel, a line of crimson formed vertically down its face, growing down its chest and gut, meeting at his nethers, before blood erupted from the fissure and he finally split in two with a shower of blood.

Morghar shuttered in terror as he beheld the altercation's end, "Gods…" Resting its head on the earth, silently praying, petrified of what more this beast will do to his people.

Vehuel marched towards the albino, looming over him silently. The gor unsteadily lifted its gaze towards the angel, and was surprised to see it leaning down, offering its hand. "I am glad you agreed to terms before your friend attacked." The sword flashed into nothingness, sweat on the gor's neck and chops suddenly ice cold from the lack of heat.

Morghar sighed stiffly, suddenly feeling his age, his vulnerability and the briefness of his mortality washing over him. "I will go to my warherd…"

"I will come with you, shaman." Vehuel nodded, "To ensure the humans depart safely."

The walk down towards the ship was lengthy enough that Vehuel pondered recent events; most of the creatures he has encountered don't seem to be above even level twenty, angels in this world are seemingly only thralls or proxies of summoners, and a bizarre magic system seems to exist alongside the one he and his fellows from YGGDRASIL can utilize. Unless YGGDRASIL spells are unique only to those whom came with the abilities like the NPCs? Despite the question if its right to feed a prisoner to the Hell-Tree for her knowledge, Vehuel is becoming anxious to know what can be gained from the result of it.

The beastmen that remained were not only busy trying to understand the parlay between their chief and a seraph, but were also contending with gathering their dead, salvable armor, weapons, material and keeping the humans in the hold corralled. Vehuel oversaw the unloading of the would-be slaves, and while some were handled more brutishly, these were quickly punished by the practiced barks of Morghar, who was a beastman of his word in this regard. However, the seraph saw that many of the humans were missing eyes, had hands cut off and the ends crudely seared, great welts of blood clotting on their heads, some pale and sickly or otherwise maimed by their captors getting them to the ship or after they had did so. While Vehuel had a desire to rectify their treatment with the blood of bestmen, Vehuel kept to his word as well, knowing that they were alive, could be healed and now freed was a greater victory then foolish bloodshed. After the hundred or so humans were gathered, Vehuel turned to Morghar, and stated, "I will be coming, shaman, have no doubt in this. This pathetic conflict will end between these humans here and your people, one way or another, I leave the choice to you of how, until this…" the angel raised its hand towards the gor, "safety on your travels." Vehuel himself was stunned at this show, surprised at how lucid he's become but relieved the aura doesn't compel him to further violence when he doesn't desire it.

The angel placed a finger to his ear, "_**Minister, gate us to the ship.**_" A bright, shimmering Gate ribboning with oranges and yellows appeared at Vehuel's flank, looking to his following of humans and said, "The ship this leads to is on its way to Rimun, where you and all those that survived will be released back to your country."

"Y-you were the one who destroyed the beastman ship?" A middle-aged woman asked up, a length of cloth covering her right eye, soaked with blood.

Vehuel stated, "This is irrelevant, please move into the Gate."

"I think it's a trap!" One of the men declared, "_That's_ an angel, it's probably taking us to the heart of Slane country!"

Vehuel's armored heated visibly in frustration, even as he calmly stated, "I am not an angel you are used to; I have my own mind and obey no summoner. I have come to stop the slavers and negotiated your freedom from their yolk. I shan't force you to enter, but know the area is evacuated and none will be able to assist you. I am going now, to those who will come, follow me."

Vehuel emerged on the opposite side of the portal, standing in the quinquereme's hold, the Gate in making it awkward to adjust to the rocking of the ship as it stayed fixed amid the mobile ground and wasn't bound strictly to it. Plenty of room was available, thankfully, as many of the refugees were probably populated more atop the ship then within it, but some saw Vehuel and the Gate in, with Shiehk waiting at the side of the deck, overlooking several papers, flanked by Sand-Elf spellmasters. "Ah, finally. What took so long?" She inquired whimsically as the humans began to funnel out of the Gate, she ordered, "Everyone! Come towards us, we will see to your injuries and then will be guided up the ship!" Hefting up Gungnir from a sandy nimbus at her feet, something maybe not unlike his own Item Box, and held it up with both hands, "I'd throw it to you, but you've already seen an example of what these arms can do." Vehuel could see the slight lifting of the top of her cheeks as she smiled.

"I certain don't want to be on the end of that." Vehuel lifted it up and felt suddenly whole again, sighing as he lent his head to the side curiously, "Why not just Gate us up to the top deck?" Just as one of the humans retched onto the floor.

"That's why… the Graeci find seeing seasickness as unlucky and offensive, and they asked I keep it out of sight of the crew." She pulled a quill out of her sleeve as the closest human approached her, an elderly man. "Name?"

"E-Edger Mangsk ma'am."

She wrote his name down, gestured to the a spellmaster whom spoke quickly: "Cuts, bruising, cracked ribs, lacking body fat, arthritias, allergies to-"

"Um I had those last two long before my capture." The old man smiled.

"Nevertheless…" Shiehk wrote down every condition he was afflicted with, "I am giving you a minor healing potion, drink it slowly, if you've been on an empty stomach for some time it might cause nausea, then hand us back the vial." Shiehk reached into wooden box secured by chains to the floor and pulled out a thin, glass container, filled with red liquid. Drinking its content, Edgar sighed contently, and color visibly return to the man's skin, appearing so lively that it made Vehuel doubt his age assessment from first glance. "Next!"

The cold, bureaucratic tone of this whole scenario made Vehuel think back to home… not Istannice, but Earth. How many jobs forced this terrible sense of apathy in their occupation in the home-domes, one would think that since the Church practically took control of the government in Italy, there'd be at least the illusion of compassion. Finding it all distasteful, Vehuel proceeded up to the top of the vessel, trying instead to focus on what's ahead then what's behind, but the thought kept on coming back to Luis; was he dead?

This would be a _royally awesome afterlife_, sure, but out of all his family, Luis was the most secular of them, bordering dangerously on Doubter territory on more then one occasion. Luis was confident that if he didn't offer a free supper at his restaurant to the odd bishop or cardinal, he would have been hung or exiled to the wilds long before his thirtieth year of life.

Thankfully, someone else brought Luis out of his thoughts, in the form of Vanniel, but Vehuel had to pause and stare to recognize her as she said, "Father! Glad you have returned!" She smiled.

"You have hair? How did this come to pass?" She was clothed as well in the graeci dress, a 'peplos' if he recalled Bethany's history rants correctly.

While her skin still carried the angelic traits of marble, she had a long mop of golden hair that reached past her shoulders, curling a length of it between a finger and thumb and holding it out as if offering it to Vehuel, "Yes! They asked why I was bald, it made them uncomfortable, so I tried making longer hair!"

Vehuel stared curiously, "Can angels do that? Modify body parts or change aspects of their physical form?"

"It came as a surprise to me as well, and only after intense concentration did it start to form, but other elements like skin, shape and what not, I don't know." She shrugged. "May you inform me what happened?"

Vehuel retold the events, the archangel relieved of the human's safety, was surprised at her patron's mercy, "Why let survivors leave? Considering how weak these creatures have been, death would have been an easy punishment to give and enough of a deterrent for others who would dare infringe here."

"A dead man can only teach the living so much, an army of broken slavers, not once having met an enemy in battle but utterly defeated still, will return home of our coming soon. The demoralizing effect would possibly save thousands of lives in our future conquest!"

"So, you _do_ intend to place these beastfolk under our control?" Vanniel looked back at the seraph with what could be seen as regret or distaste, which the former of whom picked up on clearly.

Which made Vehuel consider the act. He may have been a creature of conquest, but what of his now sapient NPCs? He was now thinking to in-depth into his YGGDRASIL character without considering that he indeed did have free will with his choices, as limiting as his nature may be now. No, conquest would be too rash, and without more answers and information, may have fatal consequences for himself and those of Istannice. Vehuel gaze drifted down to the deck, "Perhaps not."

Vanniel blinked at this. Never in her life had she seen her patron and maker so uncertain or uncomfortable, doubt was anathema to an angel, like poison to a mortal, the seraph's golden armor darkening visibly to a more bronze hue, and her worry was only compounded when the seraph continued with, "We are going to help these humans, of that little I am confident." He shook his head, making the halo above him bounce a short dance. "I apologize, my child; this is a… strange circumstance we find ourselves in and I find myself at a loss for plans."

Vanniel stared at Vehuel, "May I…" sounding suddenly uncertain herself, "Stay with Evan and Theo?"

Vehuel was brought out of his reverie, looking up in confusion, "Who?"

"The humans!" Vanniel quickly corrected, "I find their company agreeable and want them to feel safe for as long as they are aboard."

"Oh… of course, you have my blessing." Vehuel nodded, placing a hand on her tiny shoulder, "Be safe and well."

Vanniel didn't give the time to be surprised from her father's allowance of such a luxury, instead quickly marching past him, disturbed more then pleased.

Vehuel was reached by one of the humans on the deck, one of those who hid in the ruined castle, clad in plate armor, old age had settled harshly on the old knight, but he nevertheless didn't seemed to impede him as he bowed to the angel. "You and yours have accrued a great debt with me and my people, Ser Angel. Whatever may happen between your subjects and mine; know you have an ally."

"Rise, please." Vehuel stated this demanded a bit harsher and uncharitably then should have been expected, but his own mental conundrums were already dealing with the possibility that he was _dead_, and he won't be able to see his own newborn niece or nephew, or any of his family again for that matter. "I apologize, today has left much of me to think on. I was actually hoping that you may enlighten me of this area of the world and why are beastmen attacking you, but that can wait; who are you?"

The knight smiled, "Ser Jannune of Torbina, I was sent here as an intermediary of the South."

'Hmmm… hopefully with the time the Atlas has been active, it'll have grown enough knowledge of this world to give them a better picture.' "Please, tell me of this country."

Seems that this 'Roble Holy Kingdom' was a monarchy, with a vast geographical and political divide between its northern and southern regions, and the only thing protecting them from its neighbor, the beastmen controlled Abelion Hills, is a vast fortification stretching over a hundred kilometers long, meeting the boundaries of another human state, the Slane Theocracy. Vehuel nodded, "Yes, tell me more of this one; it is able to summon angels?"

"Yes," The knight seemed hesitant to answer, "We had no idea angels could have freewill, nor independence, simply thralls summoned at their whims. Where are you from?"

"Istannice, my city eversweet." Uncertainty kept him from doing his full spiel to the man, remembering full well the end of when he said it last. "We were from a land far from here, very different, and… honestly we do not know how we arrived in the seas nearby."

"Well, to who or whatever sent you our way, they have our thanks!" the knight laughed heartedly before asking, "Considering how fast this vessel travels, we'll reach Rimun before we know it, I would encourage sending an envoy to Hoburns, we're in a desperate need for allies in these dark times."

"Indeed, aren't we all?" The seraph scoffed to himself, "Now, what is it you desire to know from me?" Looking to the knight.

"I wouldn't impose-"

"I must insist, you have as much a duty to report back to your countrymen as I have to do mine. Please, I don't mind in the slightest."

"Uh who leads your nation? Where is it located?"

'Well, I made my bed, now it's time to sleep in it.' Vehuel was thinking to himself for several seconds on how to respond. Did he lead it? The Seven Ministers? What manner of city would he desire to lead into this new world? "The Prince leads Istannice… I am a bit lacking in the finer minutia of nautical skills to give precise instructions, but some dozen miles… that way." Pointing vaguely northwest.

"What do you expect your Prince's intentions to be after this?"

Vehuel paused for several seconds before saying, "That remains to be seen. We will require more information until any larger act can be declared, but I have no doubt you and yours already have his sympathies." A sour taste of embarrassment tinged his mind from the reliance of referring to himself in the third person. "It can be insured to you however; we are a city built on the back of trading and mutual prosperity; we don't desire war if we can avoid it." Vehuel rubbed the back of his head nervously, thinking back to YGGDRASIL, where if the Gilded were ever brought into fisticuffs with other guilds, they usually just bared them from access to Istannice's vast amount of trade and high tier resources, and God help them if they managed to set up a banking account where they stocked their materials and gold, then people who dare trade with them in materials from Istannice, they themselves would be bared from trade again until an tribute of such vastness, they would usually have to make new expansions to the vaults to accommodate the overflowing coffers.

"For a peaceful people, how did you become so strong?" The knight inquired, "Those beastmen have led lives of nothing but conflict, how are you superior?"

"It wasn't easy, it took _years_ to get us where we are now." Vehuel would have smiled if he was physically capable of it, thinking back to the near decade of effort he plied with his brother to get the Gilded to how it was, how it rushed by so quickly, Luis trained as a chef for longer then he was playing YGGDRASIL but yet he recalled the later far clearer. "These men, these proud graeci you have met, were the product of my fellow prince, Percillia, a warrior of godly skill, possibly greater renown and once the owner of the spear in my hand, the unstoppable Gungnir." Lifting the lance in his hand slightly, "But they are not all who inhabit the lands, we live, shoulder to shoulder with beastmen, not dissimilar to those who you fight, sand-elves, demons, angels of my own making and dragons of the Black Iron peeks. We may be wildly variant in our sight and powers, but our endeavors are always for the betterment of each other and Istannice. The adversity, the strife we have endured has made us powerful, clear of purpose; Istannice stands."

The crew startled the Seraph of Audacity and the guests both, as they gave one short, loud cheer at their prince's words. "They seem to agree." The knight mumbled.

"Now, rest at ease and when you return to your queen, tell her I will send an emissary seven days hence." 'Wow, I didn't know I knew that word!' Impressed with his own vocabulary.

"Thank you Ser- may I know your name?"

The angel paused, "I… I am Vehuel." He felt strange saying it, as if doing so confirmed his stay in this world, and his role in it. "If there is nothing further, I must depart." Quickly dismissing himself, he returned below deck and found a spot away from any crew or refugees to think. "What am I doing?" He grabbed his head with his free hand. "I need help, please, anyone." He prayed, "I don't know what to do, someone tell me what to do." He whined, the orange effect returning to his gaze a couple more times.

"Prince?" Shiehk inquired gently as she made her way to the angel, "What are you doing here? Talking to the chickens?"

The clucking of the hens was then and only then recognized by Luis as he looked around the stockroom and saw cages of poultry, bags of eggs, animal feed and the disgusting odor of chicken feces. "Oh… uh well…" He rubbed the back of his head, "Looking for wisdom that I couldn't provide myself."

"You certainly were heading in the right direction." Shiehk lifted her robes lightly off the ground as she walked closer. "Though I think these creature's intellect tower somewhat above you."

Vehuel startled Shiehk with his wild laughter, the thunderous notes so deep and booming that it seemed to rattle the entire ship, and only began to subside when he leant against the hull. "Thank you, I needed that."

Shiehk looked at the angel had grown a second head, "You've been acting very strange this today, why?"

"This world may have done something to me or maybe I am simply being more of myself now I'm away from all that chaos we left on the beach." He shrugged.

"No, you were acting weird long before you convinced me to come on this voyage. Is it because of Abnox and her disappearance?"

"And Nasazel's, and Ozzydamandiuz's and… I'm… I'm," The aura flared once more as he said, "sad." He managed to whisper. Regardless of the aura's affects, he knew full and fundamentally well how completely without aim he was. Did he want to go back home? How? What would it take? Is it even possible? What made this world and put him and his city on it? Now this insanity wrapped in an enigma with how easy it is to kill people; living, breathing people just like him and then feel like it was of even less effort than making an omelette. He found himself staring at the deck, 'Guess I am broody afterall.' Thinking of Bethany. 'Nothing's going to be the same.' His thoughts wandering to his restaurant, his family and he felt so cold and… 'Why's she so close?' Why Shiehk was at head level with him, glaring murder and having a hand to his chest was at the forefront of his mind even before he realized everything was a bit taller, which took a considerable amount of brainpower to realize he had dropped to his knees, trying to stay up by grabbing onto one of the chickencoops breaking it open, setting the poultry free and flapping about the cabin. "Minister?" His voice hoarse, gripping Shiehk's hand back in confusion. "What is…"

"How did you become like this?! You're _dying_!" She snarled, and due to both their proximity and cramped conditions, her coverings were partially pulled down and the features revealed even startled the doubt addled angel, seeing the beginnings of a nose but the nostrils coasted in scales and the cavities themselves were long, reaching the middle of the typical nose and growing in size the lower they became. "What happened? What's wrong?!"

Despite the ability to try and keep his identity as both Vehuel and Luis separate; the seraph croaked out, "I was going to be an uncle."

The minister's confusion was made even worse by the statement, the bewilderment being cut off when a genuinely startled angel cried out from behind her; "Father!" Vanniel rushing to his side in an instant, "What ails you?! This…" she stares, "He's lost heart! Something is destroying his will to live!" Backing up from her maker as if realizing he had been infected by some terrible plague, "A _Seraph_ can suffer possibly this fate?"

"Explain, angel!" Shiehk roared, both in a literal and metaphorical sense, a billow of black smoke erupting from her covered mouth.

Vanniel looked to Shiehk,"Our souls and bodies are much more closely tied together then mortals, to such a point they are nearly one and the same, so when certain stresses and emotional turbulence can manage to affect us deeply enough, we begin to weaken and die."

"He's dying of depression. Verbatim?!" She screamed, "How do we stop it?!"

"He needs to know he has much to live for." The archangel's eyes darted from side to side in thought, desperately trying to find something, anything, to remove this condition from something as strong as a seraph might be nearly impossible.

Shiehk had other thoughts on the matter, stooping down, face to face with angel as she screamed, "If you're going to be an uncle, whatever that means, would you really allow them to kill you?!"

The bronze hued seraph didn't seem to respond, where Shiehk sighed, "If you cannot be an uncle to, whoever it is, you're talking about; you're an uncle to someone else now! You were uh an uncle to those humans we saved today! How many parents, children, nieces and nephews did we allow to live another day because of you and your stupid decision to come here blind? You came here to trade, so you can come here to trade your life for theirs? You are still a poor merchant."

Vehuel's body groaned to life as he moved his arm and clasped it around Shiehk's shoulder but was still as silent as the grave. Shiehk shook her head, "We… will not know what to do if you died. Please, if you cannot live to be an uncle, live to be my- our prince."

The armor warmed in color to a dull electrum, Vehuel gave a reverberating cough as he struggled to stand again, the metallic wings, having grown a cold, iron color; burned to life. "I… apologize." He wheezed, and with Shiehk struggling to help him up, Vanniel was able to bring herself to help him. "Never felt anything like that before."

"We worry, father." Vanniel replied, "Minister; gate us back home, he must rest."

"No." He shook his head, "I will stay aboard the ship while I can, I wish to see this human port. How long until we arrive?" He leant against Vanniel as he scooped up Gungnir.

Shiehk looked to the side, "Less then an hour, I will encourage more speed from the captain. Prince, archangel." She departed courtly for the decks above them.

Vehuel considered asking after her, but decided she probably wanted to be alone, turned towards Vanniel and said, "Thank you."

"I did nothing, Seraph of Audacity." She bowed.

"Please, no bowing. _Ever_."

[]

The city of Rimun was, to Vehuel's expctations, fairly banal. He was thinking it'd be like the cities from YGGDRASIL, a massive, larger then life settlement with great walls, big keeps, shops and so on but with only a few NPCs filling the place. This was quite the inverse; the buildings were shorter, some run down and desiccated from neglect, whilst hundreds of people came to see their arrival alone. The Bastion type vessel too large to fit into port and had to run smaller ships to and from the harbors and moorings. Despite the desire to observe further, Vehuel _felt_ the innumerable stares as he and Vanniel were at the edge of the deck and had to depart.

While initially Shiehk seemed distraught at the ideal; Vehuel insisted that each refugee was given a gold coin from the hold. The people could have taken a _hundred_ each and he doubted the amount taken would equal to even a quarter of the stash, but considering the looks they gave the coins, it likely wasn't accepted tender, but the gold itself likely held some value all on its own. Hopefully it would be enough to secure their future wellness until they can find them a new home.

The sun was just beginning to set when they returned to Istannice, telling the crew they could have as much of the cargo as they wished as payment for such exemplary and timely service, dismissed Vanniel and asked whether or not Shiehk wished to accompany him to Istannice's Depths.

She accepted and made way to the base of the citadel, the eyrie of angels above them, and when they approached the massive door to the caverns beneath it; a stony cave descended to the roosts shadowy reflection, the area crafted by Nasazel for his demonic NPCs and minions. The light was dim, hued a hellish red and when they met the core of place, they were not met by demons, instead, it was a barricade of shaggy imps, covered in crude, spikey armor, grasping infernal weapons and masked in tribal visors depicting the eight other demon lords of the Depths. A snarling dog approached Vehuel and the minister, whom lifted his mask, revealing an ugly, flat, platformed nose, great ears and small, sunken eyes, the features clearly bat like and jagged teeth as it smiled at the two, "Prince, Shiehk!" He immediately knelt, "We are honored by your presence, the Archangel of Truth has told of us of your arrival and is the depths of the Hell-Tree as we speak. Shall we accompany you?"

Aldrikkni. Yes, that was what they were called, a custom race that his brother made. While they are based off the stats of Hobgoblins, and clearly depicted as a race that serve demonic masters, they themselves were not strictly evil. In fact, nothing Nasazel made was strictly evil, including the demon lords; the hellish elements were not seen as evil by Maxi, something controversial he himself believed that demons were still angels in some regard, continuing to serve God by punishing the wicked, but were closer to humans in the peeks and valleys of flaws and personalities, with free will in some form, unlike the smiting messengers they originally were. The Aldrikkni were crafted by the Demon Lords from the souls they found repentant enough to have a new life, free to choose their own fate once more. 'For a psychologist, he sure had some crazy ideas.' Luis thought.

"We'd be happy for the company." Vehuel nodded, the greeter looking back and screeched something in their cruel tongue, where four others leapt from the barricade and flanked their superior.

Knowing the way to Haoma-Dannoto by sheer repetition of years, he opened the massive doors and saw the tree itself: wild branches of burnt-black lumber, budding, cancerous blossoms of would-be-fruit, and the tips of red leaves dripped with blood. And at the center of the trunk, Vehuel saw the beastman prisoner, thorny vines holding her against it as it slowly supped on her body and soul, a withered body, drained of fluids and all that remains of life is emaciated and gaunt, mouth open wide in a silent scream, where the archangel, Nothiel, loomed near her and stood near the fruit that had grown close by.

"「His feet, part of iron, part of clay」" Vehuel chanted, gaining his son's attention as he changed into a human form.

"Seraph." Nothiel nodded at Vehuel. "The Mortal Fruit is ready for consumption."

Vehuel spied the magical produce wearily, the confection seeming to beat like a heart, veins running over its surface, "Good." He said as he paced towards it, reached out and plucked it off its branch, blood dripping from its broken branch. "I will have it."

Nothiel and Shiehk exchanged a worried glance at one another, "My Prince, I don't believe that is wise, the state you were in on the Bastion may have weakened you and we don't know what this might do to you." The latter explained.

"Which is why, if anything happens…" Vehuel presented the minister Gungnir, "_You_ will make sure that Istannice is safe, protect the humans on these other lands, and send an envoy in seven days to their capital."

When she took the spear, Vehuel bit into the fruit, the viscous fluids splattering and spitting its discharge around his cheeks and neck. It had a metallic taste, but despite how horrible the sensation would have been, he was glad he was able to taste something again. As he finished the confection, Vehuel's eyes widened, and for a moment he wasn't Vehuel. Or Luis.

He was Alyith, daughter of Himn.

The archangel and minister stared as he was flooded with the memories and experiences of the victim but were shocked when the Aldrikkni dropped to their knees, unmasked themselves and prayed, "**May She provide One's Truth**." Shiehk thought they were referring to the prisoner, but then then they continued with, "**Haoma-Dannoto, She who brings sullen sweetness of the Sinner**."

[]

Vehuel experienced the aftereffects like a dream, as if trying to remember the event pushed it farther from remembrance, but could feel it more than recall specific details, but could sift the issues easily. The various tribes and kindreds of the beastmen were far from unified, and desperation has only mounted in their downturn, something about… monsters plaguing the world some two centuries prior to his arrival, the cities destroyed, whole species wiped out, and only after the Twenty-Heroes defeated their leader did peace return.

The Abelion Hills were so hard to live off of; the humans killed so many of us when we lived in the countries, they- Vehuel grabbed his head harshly. "Damnation, I hope this isn't permanent." He said aloud before turning to the group of former-NPCs, "I think I have enough to think about for a month!" He laughed.

The Aldrikkni followed the trio out of the Depths, expressing depths of honor at their visit, and Vehuel, again, expressing his displeasures at all the bowing and kneeling.

'Hopefully _that_ isn't permanent.' He thought. "So, this envoy…" He said to Shiehk, "I would like you to be a part of it, take whomever you wish but I will be taking my own entourage to depart company as soon as I am sure you're safe in their Hoburns."

Shiehk eyed him, frustration and confusion only growing hour by hour for her leader, "To what end? I thought you'd want to be there for everything? I know the humans certainly will!"

"If need be, you can gate me in, but I…" He rubbed his neck and smiled embarrassingly, "want to explore, and learn important things while I do it. You will learn much with the humans in their capital, but I need to see everything from the ground, I was thinking I'd be in a small caravan, going from city to town to village, gathering what knowledge we can."

"You wish to rub shoulders with the human peasants?" Shiehk scoffed.

"Hell yes!" He smiled broadly.

Despite herself, she smiled back though she doubted Vehuel could see it. "I'm glad you're recovered."

"Ah… yes. I never thanked you for your words."

Shiehk shook her head, "And you never will, if you know what's good for you!"

On the way back to the palace, Vehuel caught a whiff of the most magnificent scent he's encountered, meaty, fatty and spicy. He never felt as hungry as he did then and had to dismiss himself from Shiehk and Nothiel to investigate it. It was a graeci patrol, a large fire at their post where they had set a massive split roast over the blaze. Vehuel didn't even acknowledge the half dozen or so hoplites as he reached out and pulled out a chunk of meat with his bare hands, and as the food reached his tongue and proceeded to chew, Luis nearly moaned.

'The Mortal Fruit…' Luis thought, 'it must have changed me somehow in more than just give me memories.' And as he looked back to see Shiehk speak with minister Melkoth, he stared at one of the sand-elf assistants that were at his side, her slender curves, dark skin and breathtaking visage burned a dim flame of arousal in the seraph's chest.

'If one can make me feel like this again, what would tw- NO!' The mere idea that he'd feed someone else to the Hell-Tree to experience simple pleasures again was abhorrent, 'This is enough.' Luis looked down at the ground and lightly shook his head, "It has to be."

[][]

_**I bit off more then I could chew with trying to get this out a day after the first part.**_

_**So; the Aldrikkni is actually a D&D homebrew species I made. Kinda based them off the Magog from the Andromeda tv show from only an aesthetic perspective.**_

_**I was planning on commissioning someone to make the level/trait cards for characters, if not just Vehuel, also the ministers and if possible, the other Princes then the Harshad-27, but isn't a priority.**_

_**Hopefully I'll get the other chapter out soon but let me know if you guys don't mind long chapters to read, because these last two parts were originally going to be one chapter.**_

_**Anyways! Thank you for reading and have a good day!**_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Learning a New World's Name

Reynard pulled sharply on his reins, the two steeds steering his chariot so hard left he thought for a second he pushed too far and was going to topple himself and his chariot over, and worse, not catch up with that smug houndfolk and give him a wallop of such epic magnitude, Reynard's bastards, their bastards and the bastards after them will be forever in awe they were sired from such a godlike being!

The foxclan charioteer readied his lance as his vehicle straightened out and surged forward, almost disappointed that this spat wasn't to first blood and not simply knocking the other guy down, the wind catching on the extra paddings of flax wrapped around the end, "Rax, Toofa! C'mon boys! We got this!" Spurring on the pair of warhogs who replied in a quick, booming squeal, quickly beginning to catch up with the beastman. 'Using horses, how pedestrian!' Reynard thought, smiling viciously as the warhogs began to visibly overheat, waves of intense calefaction becoming more and more apparent as their desire to win only began match their master's own.

Just as the houndfolk realized he was being matched in speed and looking over towards his opponent; his eyes widened as he saw the neck long orange hair, ears as tall as they were wide and arrogant, emerald eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned from ear to ear, stabbing his unfanged lance at his chest.

The wind was knocked clean of the houndfolk, being launched out of the chariot and only able to regain his footing after rolling across the sand dusted circus and coughing up a fair amount of said grime. Reynard laughed haughtily as he ushered his hog-drawn chariot to stop, "You owe me, mutt." And walking off his ride towards his fallen adversary. "That's twenty-five gold, a word of worthiness to Argos and a night with your sister!"

"I said only the first one!" He yelled back, pulling out the axe at his hip.

"Of course, of course! But if you don't want the utter humiliation that this whole incident was from getting out; I need further incentive."

The hound was about to respond, but he looked to the side of the circus, put away his ax, eyes looking at the ground, and his mood went suddenly from inflamed to submissive.

"What? If you're so willing to show your belly at whoever sees this little spat, I have only growing intent to your sister." Reynard smirked deviously as he turned to see the newcomers. And his disposition quickly matched that of the houndfolk's, his ears flattening quickly as his smile dropped, looking to the dirt, bowing his head, "Minister Argos." Seeing a stranger at her side as she approached.

He seemed to be a human, his hair was a deep red wine color, quite darker then Reynard's own but still visibly carmine, but that's where the expected tones of humankind and all its various tribes ended; his skin was so pale as to be almost grey, and his eyes had a disturbingly warm honey-brown, the welcome and friendliness carried in them was sheerly unsettling as if charm and kindliness was what replaced a soul, but his smile seemed genuine. The stranger was half a foot taller than Argos, whom was a towering woman at just over six feet, but the swaddles of heavy white robes concealed further assessments of his form. "Who's this?" Reynard asked impatiently.

Argos growled lowly at him through vicious teeth, "Keep discipline, child." Before regaining her own composure and gesturing towards Reynard with a nod, a smile and a look to the stranger. "This is your volunteer."

He honestly couldn't help himself, Reynard's eye twitched, "So when is this going to make sense?" Argos was close to scalping him, but quickly bowed his head, "Minister."

"Enough." Argos carefully ordered, having quickly gotten sick of the sass of the foxclan, "Look upon on this man and I." The overthrown houndfolk and Reynard both stood at their full heights, "You will answer every whim and order of his as if it were my own," They all heard the dusty dogman scoff but Argos ignored him and continued with, "you will carry his burdens, his curses and duties as if they were yours, and if so needed, die for him to live another day more." She planted her axe in the sand, leant its red-gemmed pommel towards Reynard, "Kneel and swear it will be so."

Reynard lifted a finger towards Argos, "Hold that for a second," Looking to the stranger, "Who the hell are you?"

Argos lifted the axe off the ground and Reynard was actually very unsure if she would have taken his head or not, but the stranger lifted his hand with a chuckle at Argos, whom sighed and stuck the axe where it originally was. "That's fair, we will be working closely afterall." Extending his pale hand towards the foxclan, "I'm Luis. Sort of. Not so sure what's human of me is left, but I'd like to at least keep the name."

"Reynard Hibernia." Uncertainly shaking the man's name, looking to Argos after it was done.

She seemed momentarily more frustrated at this Luis man then she was with Reynard. She pinched the bridge of her nose before sighing, "This is Prince Vehuel."

The charioteer gave a small, bewildered shake of the head as he looked on the man. "What in the flying fu-?"

"Ah!" Argos gave a bark of warning.

"Uh… well, you look shorter without the armor." Reynard rubbed the back of his head, "What are we doing exactly? Why aren't you doing it?" Directing the last question at Argos, who's growl was slowly becoming louder, "With respect."

"Our prince has wisely decided that I will accompany Minister Shiehk in negotiations, which leaves our best steedmaster without a duty being you." Argos nodded but smiled just as deviously as the fox had mere minutes ago.

"I don't like that look, t-t-that's never a good sign. What am I gunna be doing?" Reynold's lips formed a grim line.

"Tell me; how long has it been since you've driven a carriage?"

'Threats to life and limb. Defeat from a superior and unexpected adversary. The terror of the unknown and questions that come with their being. I don't like any of those things, but at least I could deal with them.' "No…" 'But the one thing I could never handle…'

"Yes, you have volunteered to drive a trading carriage until further notice, congratulation."

"No." He sighed in bitter defeat. 'Boredom.' He mentally screamed in horror.

[]

Shiehk still could never get used to seeing Vehuel as this 'Luis' persona, but she still stared at him as he proceeded to walk into her makeshift office in the trireme and not all her prolonged observation was bound in discomfort, finding his new human form to be lovely if a bit untasteful due to how contrasting the colors were. If he was aiming to be as human as possible, he failed. "Prince, thank you for coming." Putting down the papers in hand on her desk. "When we get to port, I'd like you to turn into your angelic form."

"Why? For what reason?" He ran a hand over his silk robes, "I was starting to get use to being like this all the time and it took five whole days and nights to mold my form this way." Vehuel brooded.

"Don't mope; its unbecoming." Shiehk chastised before explaining, "I have read your treatise of the memories you obtained from the Mortal Fruit, and from what I understand; angels are most often affiliated with a rival nation whom summons and controls them, so this will be our chance to change that and try to affiliate you and the rest of the Seventh Legion with Istannice as its guardians and messengers."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same." Luis nodded, considering the similar position that the Gilded took themselves with using the Seventh legion in YGGDRASIL as their shock and awe force whom, apart from the black-iron dragons, had the highest levelled NPC average which equaled level fifty, if one excluded the archangel captains and the seraph prince himself in the calculation. "Do you need me to do anything particularly 'angelly'?"

"No but after you warn of where we're parking and do your gift giving thing, do leave the talking to me; we don't want a repeat of what happened when you started negotiating with strangers." Bringing her papers back and writing several figures, "But if you feel the moment come over you, do some flying about and looking aloof like a typical, divinity endowed pigeon."

"Stay silent, fly around and look like a pigeon; I can do all three of those fairly well, but I may have to improvise on the last one." Muttering the chant that changed him to his seraph manifestation, placing a gauntleted thumb under his chin. "But how will I and my volunteers leave conspicuously? They'd certainly notice something of my size, no matter how much I emulated a pestilent avian. Speaking of which…"

A sudden thud in front of her made Shiehk nearly shriek, putting her papers down in a panic and saw the seraph perching on the edge of her desk. "How's this?" He tucked his arms under his shoulders, "Caw…" Turning his head at the minister.

She fought back a laugh, "Get down you fool! I invited someone else to my office and she'll arrive any-"

He beat his wings and started shuffling in his crouched position towards the minister, turned his head again, "Caw?"

"Get down!" She placed a fist over her mouth and bit down. 'I will _not_ laugh.'

"Caaw, uck heh!" The seraph's will breaking far sooner then his inferior, his chuckle breaking into his act.

"Your eminence, please…" Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, biting even harder onto her knuckles.

"Hehehe, caw HAHAHA!" The seraph broke entirely and put his face into his hand. "Its your fault, you take everything so seriously!"

"Uhh what's going on?" A woman asked behind the seraph.

Said angel clumsily tried getting off the desk and only succeeded with introducing his face to the deck, his panicked and fluttering wings beating strongly in embarrassment, sending the papers on the minister's desk flaying in all directions.

The minister's composure was on the narrow line of bursting, standing up and turning around, "Spellmaster!" She held up a finger, "Please, one second…" Giving out a long breath before turning and looking at the sand elf, golden discs filled with runes decorating a long trail of pitch hair, curious red eyes dancing between the toppled angel, and the nearly hysterical minister, "Yes, I have called you here to offer a position at our prince's side as he explores areas nearby. Melkoth had high praise of you and your abilities in counter-intelligence, keeping a low profile of you and the party from any possible prying eyes we don't know are watching is paramount. Can you do it?"

"Absolutely." She nodded and smiled, eyes falling upon the prince, and bowed. "I am Felrrin, and I eagerly await your commands in the quest ahead!"

Vehuel had to look away, her eager sign of consent allowed him ample opportunity to look down her bosom and behold the _glorious _cleavage she bore. 'Please don't tell me I can pop a boner in this form!' He prayed, "Y-Yes, look forward to working with you as well, please stop bowing." Shimming his head to look to one side to the other. "You won't be doing that from now, if that's alright."

She refrained from looking to the minister for some kind of reassurance for this behavior and just stood up, "Whom will I be working beside?"

"A beastman called Reynard, the prince, and an Aldrikkni, Azimuth."

Felrrin looked between the minister and the prince, "No graeci? Aren't these humans xenophobic? Surely a human of our own will make us seem a bit more habitable?"

"I intend to recruit some natives to assist us in that matter." Vehuel reassured, "Besides that, these humans are seemingly very weak, Azimuth will be the weakest among us and I'm confident she'd be one of the strongest warriors they've ever encountered."

"What will this Aldrikkni and beastman be doing? If my duties focus on magic and counter-intelligence."

"Reynard is our driver; Azimuth will be our scout."

"And you, if I may know?"

"To be determined." Vehuel tried smiling in this form. "I will be using this opportunity to see everything from the sidelines, recognize and cultivate leadership that can prove useful in the future." Vehuel was more then willing to step in if he discovered the NPCs were unable to handle the expedition; being a constructed character from a fantastical city might be quite the jarring change of environment afterall.

"I hope we will reach your expectations and more, your grace." Felrrin was close to bowing again but stopped midway and nodded towards the prince. "When will I meet the others?"

"If not when we reach port, certainly when we leave for the capital." The seraph explained, "Azimuth is resting, she's not used to being awake during the day and Reynard is uh well…"

"Brooding with his beasts." Shiehk scoffed, "And if any of you have a problem with _that_ one, don't be afraid to message me so I can Gate him to the deepest burrow in the Depths back home." Before pointing her quill at Felrrin, "And _you_, don't pretend I haven't heard of your record from Melkoth." Looking at Vehuel as she explained, "She is smart, the smartest one in your party without a doubt, but she isn't anywhere near as smart as she thinks she is."

Felrrin gave a dismissive chuckle, "Only so far as you know, Melkoth can only know so much of my activities in the city." Flourishing her hand before placing it under her chin.

"Coming from the sand-elf who tried spying on her own minister, who is the city's own damned spymaster. Those 'activities' are likely you just cleaning up after your own mistakes when you realized what a colorful trail you make. Melkoth wouldn't want you in his services if he knew what a mess you can make in a near state of emergency for Istannice." The minister's eyes flexed instinctively at the sand-elf, but she regained her pleasant if, passively aggressive, demeanor again, writing more on her scroll.

Vehuel looked between the two before asking the minister, considering this revelation. Luis knew that they tried to make Istannice a bastard child between the legendary cities of Istanbul and Venice, filled to overflowing with byzantine politics, greed and that overriding belief that, save the Princes, they alone know how to better Istannice. "Should I ask?" Suddenly not sure he felt comfortable at how _human_ these characters were now. What would it take for one or more NPC to betray him? Which might be a possibility besides them figuring out he's just an overweight Italian chef who happens to be existing in their Prince's body.

Shiehk didn't bother looking at him as she replied with a shake of her head, "She was merely trying to levy any kind of blackmail she could scrounge up on Melkoth or other members of the Seven Ministers, sand-elves are always political creatures, even when others are flailing around in crisis."

Felrrin's façade of calm annoyance dipped into clear anger at the minster, before she coughed into her hand. "Fear not, my prince." Looking to the seraph with a smile, "I serve you and will fulfill any duties you give me without any intent past serving the city and yourself. But…" She lifted a finger, "I may trade gossip if I see anything of particular interest on our journey."

"Yes, yes, there is a final thing I must discuss with you both." Shiehk finished her scroll, rolled it up and cast a spell that turned it to floating sand that flew out of the cabin and up the ladder, before turning to her desk and pulling out another scroll, unrolling it before the pair. "On your journey, I need your party to find this…" Pointing at a grey, featureless smudge in the overall detailed and colorful map. "It is in the south western regions of the Roble kingdom, not too far away from their Abelion wall."

"What is it?" Vehuel asked immediately.

"We don't know. This map is traced from the Atlas itself; this place is one of several on this continent it was unable to categorize. Since it is the closest, it is best we evaluate it, it would take a remarkably strong spell to hide from the Atlas." Shiehk's eyes squinted slightly in worry as she rolled up the map and handed it to Vehuel, whom placed it in his Item Box. "But it seems likely that it may be due to another creature from YGGDRASIL."

'A Player!' Vehuel felt both excited and worried all at the same time. They might be in a better or worse state, but what if the weird effect that occasionally falls over him is affecting them in a similar way? If a Player came to the world as an evil creature, would it _need_ to act evilly due to the aura? Or if its something else, bound beyond laws of good and evil, how much are these others, or maybe even himself, being manipulated by these unseen forces without even knowing it? "That'll be our first destination." Vehuel nodded.

"Good," Shiehk replied, "But if anything that might seem out of your reach happens, you come home that second. Understood?" She seemed more worried about this then Vehuel himself seemed, which only made the later even more anxious.

He ignored the feeling and gave a slight, mocking bow, "As you command my prince!"

"Hey! Stop bowing!" Shiehk mocked back.

"I might have to open in a window in here! Everyone is just so stuffy." Felrrin commented.

"Please, don't. The crew aboard are complaining about how cold the air is, and I _hate_ the cold." Shiehk scoffed.

"Hopefully it'll be warmer when we land!" Vehuel reminded them, "Maybe I should tell the crew not to sail through so many clouds."

[]

Holy Queen Calca looked out over the Royal Palace along with the rest of the court at the spectacle. They had received a message from Rimun about the arrival of the strangers from 'Istannice', however the means they arrived and continue to travel to Hoburns sent a ripple of confusion and fear of the the outsiders; their seafaring vessel floated over the port and continued in land. This perturbed Calca due to conflicting reports from one of the knights, whom swore they had a land-ship that strode rather then flew. The prospect of one of these forms of locomotion for such a massive vessel was petrifying, but both? The queen internally shuttered at not only their capabilities of movement, but how this new power might be able to do weeks what the beastmen at their borders couldn't do in generations of effort; wipe aside her nation and the people in it.

The sight the flying ship in the distance set a block of solid ice in her belly, as if all the stories from her people were tales she bore up in a dream and any second now she was going to wake up in the middle of the night, breathe a sigh of relief and go back to sleep.

"Look there! Something's coming!" One of the nobles announced, all others on the massive balcony quickly looked where he was pointing, seeing a something small, glinting in the distance not too far away from where the Istannaci ship floated, but where the latter lumbered, this shiny object darted across the sky, and as it grew in size and proximity, they not only recognized it as an angel, they knew where it was headed: directly at them.

"Get back! Everyone behind us!" The paladins quickly declared, several noblemen and ladies were already back inside the palace proper, where the rest still outside were either brave and stood their ground behind the safety of their holy warriors, or simply the slowest when the angel arrived seconds later.

There was a dreadful awe about the being as it hovered in a single spot and set itself down gently, its glowing aura not so much as blinding as limiting, trying to look at the angel for more then a few seconds was like staring at the sun, but painful more than on a physical level.

The aura dimmed and as the angel began walking towards the court, "**A thousand apologies!**" Its voice boomed, "**I have come to inform you that our ship will park well outside this city's northern walls and we will proceed in from there. We do not wish to startle your people nor for them to fear our presence in what is rightfully your metropolis. Also, to deliver a gift…**" The angel strode closer to the court and the paladins quickly formed a solid wall of maces and shining plate armor in front of them. "**To the ruler of this nation: I give a Ring of Kings."** He knelt, extended his hand out and kept his face towards the ground as his massive fist unclenched and revealed a silver ring. "**I encourage your own magi to investigate its abilities but know that its enchantments cannot be copied and when worn by the first person whom dons it, it will not bestow its gifts upon any other.**"

And it continued to kneel there, unmoving, its hand offering the ring like a statue.

One of the noblemen said, "I-it is an angel afterall; it likely was summoned for this singular duty and will stay where it is until someone picks it up."

Calca stared, uncertain what to do. Why goto the effort of gift-giving if they could just send angels to kill them all and take over with a snap of the fingers? Maybe it was a trap? The ruler would come, pick up the ring and kill the one who obtained it? But why warn her to have it analyzed at all? As if reading Calca's thoughts, Remedios Custodio walked to Calca's periphery, her helmed head bowing slightly. "I will get it for you, your majesty." She stated.

Calca wanted to reassure her bodyguard, to ask her to be safe and run back if anything looked fishy, but within so many ears of the court and the false rumors rampant about their relationship being riddled throughout the kingdom, she bit back her words, kept as blank a face as possible and simply said, "Do so."

The paladin marched confidently past the line of her comrades, reached where the angel knelt and paused, thinking for a moment that the creature moved, but seeing it still in the same position, reached out and took the ring. Taking a step back and not turning her back until she was well a dozen paces away, the angel stood and said, "**We will meet again soon**." Before taking flight and going the direction of the approaching ship.

Remedios held up the ring, trying to recognize any of the symbols etched upon its surface, a strange language of shrewd lines and graceful characters on and over them, almost alien but still had a vague rhythm when she looked over it a few more times where certain patterns repeated. Rejoining the relaxed mass of paladins and nobles, the ringbearer walked straight to the Holy Queen and presented it to her in a much less graceful mode as the angel, "Looks pretty at least, your majesty."

"Quite." She replied bluntly, "Well, we should start clearing out the north gate then! Seneshal Otmin!" A tall and fat bearded man in humble clothing compared to most of his company approached the queen, "See it done, do whatever you feel is necessary."

"As you wish my queen." Otmin bowed.

"Time to see what this thing can do, want to come with?" Calca asked with a smile, fully knowing how loathe the paladin was to brings these things to the priests by herself, even if her sister was involved.

Remedios gave her silent consent, where the queen turned to the court, "I expect all of you to be at your best behavior on their arrival, extend these strangers every courtesy."

Calca was more than glad to have the chance to get away from all the nobles, but even as she and her bodyguard walked a familiar and comfortable route to the den of the younger Custodio, the queen's mind was overladen with paranoia and the possible dread these new people can bring to hers and her subjects, Remedios saying something here and there but she couldn't find a verbal response, merely nodding and smiling at her friend. The paladin picked up on this quickly, "As far as I'm concerned, what happened was a good sign!" She took off her helm and breathed in the dusty, stony air. "I mean, these guys can make whole ships float, summon angels that seem pretty powerful, and they gave you a magic ring of somekind, all the while trying to stay as polite as possible to their neighbors and not drop a whole ship in their backyard." Remedios counted off on her fingers said subjects. "Am I forgetting anything?"

Calca gave an ill-suited roll of her eyes, "Nothing else comes to mind."

Remedios grimaced, "Please your majesty, try not to look at this negatively when we've been blessed with so much already."

Calca sighed in capitulation, "Yes, you're right. I'll worry about getting plowed in a one-sided war later." She deadpanned as the paladin opened the door to the temple for her.

"That's the spirit!" Remedios smiled back, following her queen as she entered High Priestess's Kelart's temple. "Yo sis!" Said paladin yelled out, "Where are you hiding?"

A head poked out of the chapel at the side of the temple, "Why are- oh! Your majesty!" The High Priestess fully emerged from the door and bowed, "How are you today? Have the outsiders arrived already?"

"Not yet, but soon." Calca shook her head and held up the silver ring, "But I'll need your help with this, can you tell me what enchantments it has?"

"Of course! One moment!" The twin-wing declared before rushing back into the chapel and running back out just as fast with spell-scroll, opening it up and saying, "「Identify」" Before touching the ring as the scroll burned.

And just as immediately took her hand back and cried out in shock, "_Impossible!" _She stated hoarsely before a grin spread from ear to ear, "Wait right here!" Before going back and zooming with another scroll, "「Identify」!" She chanted eagerly, before having another shockingly happy cry. "Where did you get this thing?!" She greedily demanded, before snatching it from her queen's grasp.

"An angel flew by and dropped it off." Calca sourly replied, "What does it do?"

"Extend-endurance, null-hunger-and-thirst, deny-need-for-rest, perfect-health, resist-poison, judge-character, see-lies and even more! If I can take this to the other priests, imagine what we could learn! How many people we'd help!" Kelart was nearly foaming at the mouth.

Remedios quickly said, "Don't even think about it, we were warned that it was nonreplicable and given specifically for the Holy Queen to wear and none other."

The priestess huffed back in distaste, but said, "The only thing I can find that might be at all malevolent was a 'dispel-at-command', and it doesn't seem to be for you."

'Likely, its for whoever made it, denying me its gifts if anything goes bad between us.' Calca frowned as Kelart handed the ring back to her. Despite the list of benefits, she hesitated slipping it on. Of course, the High Priestess used two Identify scrolls to ensure its authenticity but… Calca stopped the thought, pushed all doubt aside and slipped it on her right ring-finger.

Nothing happened.

Calca rose an eyebrow at it, "Did I just get worked up over a practical joke? Not a funny one either for that matter."

"You don't feel any different?" Kelart inquired.

She shook her head, "No," Looking up at the pair, "But I uh…" She stared at the paladin, "What kind of…" The woman was surrounded by an aura of warm red iridescence, and she _saw_ within them what Remedios was going to ask.

"Take the-"

"-ring off." Both reading the paladin's mind and simultaneously coming to the same conclusion herself, pulling the silver band off nearly instantly, the colors around her bodyguard fading, but then she felt the sudden hit of tiniest exhaustion, the small pit of hunger, and the dry patch of parchedness at the back of her throat. "Strange… try it on." Gesturing towards Kelart with the ring, whom gladly took and wore on the same finger. "Anything? Colors and shapes that tell uh things?"

Kelart looked up, wide eyed, "Ohhh, wow."

"You see something?" Calca asked excitedly, "What can you see?"

Kelart walked towards her sister, the latter nervously stood in silence as the former said: "By the gods, I had no idea you were… just… that… _stupid_."

Remedios briefly closed her eyes, 'I can't kill her, she's the only family I have left.' "I assume that means you can't see anything?"

"Nothing abnormal." Kelart gave a self satisfied smile, "It's a bit heavier than it looks but no." Taking off the ring and handing it back. "It might take some time to adjust to its abilities, I'd warrant taking it off every so often so as not to overburden you, my queen."

Calca stared at the ring, "What kind of material is this even made of? Seems to be adamantite, but I've never seen an enchanted ring made from it."

"I don't think even adamantite would be able to sustain that much magic." Kelart explained, surrounded in a bruise like green-yellow of uncertainty, the darts above the priestess showing the queen the former was truthful in assessment and held nothing back.

"Paladin," Calca said, looking between Remedios and her ring, "Tell me a fabrication. Anything will do."

The paladin stared at the queen, "I uh Kelart is the better thinker here, why not-?"

"Please." The Holy Queen inisited.

"Ehhh I enjoy the paper work involved with being head of my order?" The aura shifted into a gloomy green, edged with vexatious boxes that spoke of a conflicted decision.

"Strange… come walk with me, I will use this for as long as I can with others that will not be anticipating its abilities." Calca gestured out of the temple, where the court and various nobles were either blathering about some issue with the south, per usual, or things such as how many were guards were awake and active right now to insure the Istanni received a safe (and maybe a bit of an intimidating) welcome, but the issues had with some weren't merely the numbers involved, arming them so quickly and making them look presentable in so short of a time, but thoughts and lies strayed to not wanting to pay the guards so much for so little of an impression on such a tiny amount of notice, then there was the thought, guarded more closely but still quite visible to the queen, of letting the inhuman monsters into the city at all.

A sour tang tickled Calca's tongue, she's been trying to insure equality and security for everyone in her kingdom, including the scant beastmen and demi-human populations that came here willingly or have simply no choice in the matter. It feels like it will never end, this parasitic hatred towards anything not strictly human, those in charge or in power will enforce some act or do some heinous crime to these desperate people, whom in turn will rail against those oppressors and those who may just be next them with even greater anger and passion, the cycle repeating. The fact that beastmen slavers and warherds still strike villages and towns just beyond the immediate reach of a walled army or city garrison doesn't help in smothering this ever-growing fire.

Kelart, almost like she had a 'Ring of Kings' herself, noticed the queen's expression, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" Calca replied too readily to the high priestess, running a hand through a stray length of hair out of her eyes. "Still getting used to everything, I… wish I could put it to words." The queen smiled back.

"Maybe you can use this gift to fish out a man to give you another kind of ring." Kelart wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, until the Remedious smacked the former in the back of the head sharply.

"Maybe she can find _you_ a husband so we won't be the only fools worrying about what you'll say next anymore!" The paladin chastised.

Calca knew Kelart said that only as a joke and nothing malicious was meant with it, even without the ring, but it did scrape a nerve she wished would have gone numb by now.

[]

'This city…' Shiehk looked down on Hoburn as the vessel approached its earthy berth near its walls, 'is pathetic.' Certainly, it was large, but she could already smell the stench of squalor its citizens likely were submerged in. "I already regret leaving home. Again." She spoke aloud to the seraph.

Vehuel closed to her side and suggested, "You might like it here! Give it a chance, if it doesn't stick, you have my blessings to go home."

"I fear it shall stick in the worst ways; I can smell the plague from here." Shiehk lifted a hand towards the approaching city, "But if I ever feel it's too irredeemable nor worth the effort, I'll burn it to its foundations. Everyone wins."

Vehuel thought about questioning on whether she was joking but reconsidered when he saw a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "Well, try your best not to is all I ask."

They settled the ship just over two kilometers away from Hoburn, and while the majority of the crew were adamant on staying, the captain agreed to lend half his marines to the precession, if not due to their abilities to defend the prince and minister and all the staff the later has brought, to set the Roble denizens at ease from seeing humans in the event. It was strange to see the graeci themselves speaking on the natives, with several members being present when they inadvertently stumbled upon a beastman raid; these graeci were almost apathetic to these folk, barley seeing them as human due to the fact of how weak they were in comparison to themselves, whom while plentiful, resourceful and a key population to Istannice were on average the weakest to the various other peoples that called the city home. He wasn't sure if it was due to now having the ability to punch down to someone or if they simply found it easier to mock these people rather than actively understand they were the same race as them.

The procession itself took fairly little time to organize, the various sand-elves that Shiehk had selected for her embassy set up the carts quickly, summoned the dozen massive, looming Ushabti, their decorative, golden animal heads and frames housing not only just burning pistons and steaming engines, but the souls of divine warriors, buried alive in most terrible dedication inside the vessel they now wield as their body. Eyes glowing softly even in the midday light, the constructs did not wield their trademark halberds, fearing it may inspire fear rather then awe, they used both hands to pick up both prongs of their respective side of the litter, the six carts filled with elves, housing the minister and holding all the materials they will require in the future with almost nettling ease in their gazes. "Pleasant day upon thee, my luminary." They all said and bowed their head as Vehuel passed them to the front of the procession, the graeci taking up the flanks while the party Vehuel was to depart with were in the back, the covered carriage being pulled by two massive warhogs, with Reynard at the reigns, Felrrin sitting on the spot next to him, and Azimuth was only barely visibly inside the carriage, hidden between boxes as she continued her daylight precipitated slumber, tuffs of raggedy hair and the mere glimpse of her ironwood mask being the only evidence of her being there.

Vehuel gave a nod to the Ushabti, following the seraph through the gates as they silently made their way to the palace. The way was guarded by a number of the city guard, and while they were barring access of the street from the commoners who huddled and gathered around the cavalcade in fascination, there weren't nearly enough to carve a stable path. Not that it was required, the seraph's presence alone clearing the way. Vehuel felt he may not have been needed, that he himself was responsible for this parade being as silent as a funeral cortège and twice as oppressive; soldiering on until they met the city's inner walls of the palace, the royal protectors inside swiftly drawing down the bridge across the mote, revealing a large row of tall green apple trees bordering a neatly sculped, stone road.

Vehuel desired to look on it just that moment longer but had to focus his inner Nothiel and ignore the 'aesthetically pleasing' visage and press onwards. The court, the city's knights and a small army of what appear to be paladins awaited them at its heavy oak doors were arrayed in a crescent, the mounted nobles at the fore and the paladins behind them, all folding over the royal welcome lovingly and with a degree of protectiveness that gave the impression of genuine affection for their monarch.

The march of litters spilled out into the grass, the ushabti setting them down before standing in guard of them as the sand-elves emerged, flocked together with Shiehk at its head and courtly leant out a hand towards the queen, "I am Minister Shiehk, master of matters, and we all here are besides ourselves in being welcomed so finely in your fair city."

The queen only lifted her eyebrow for a moment as the ring read her distasteful lie, before smiling and taking her hand with both hands, "I am Holy Queen Calca, monarch from the glorious house of Bessarez, you are most welcome here. For people who would save so many of my subjects, it is the least I can do."

"I apologize our Prince isn't able to meet you presently; I'm confident he will meet you when the time has come."

"We will be happy to have him when the time comes but please come inside! We've prepared the midday feast!"

The sand colored stone of the palace was warm and welcoming, and when they reached a set of heavy oak doors, opening up to decadently deep red carpets, velvety window hangings, golden chandeliers and garish, bizarre looking tapestries that reminded Luis of his elementary school art classes, specifically depictions of the Church of Christ's 'medieval age' and the thousand, thousand depictions of its saints and messiah. Cartoonish. Overexaggerated and almost hard _not_ to laugh at, but all of the depictions usually held up the visage of knights or paladins fighting some strange creature, and considering the world they now found themselves, were likely actual events in their history.

"I'd never imagine an angel could admire art." Both Shiehk and Queen Calca walked to the seraph's side, but the statement was entirely from the later of the two, whom continued with, "So you are indeed capable of reasoning and freewill?"

"To most extents; yes." He nodded towards the queen, "I've experienced only one incident where control was beyond my choice and it dealt directly with beastmen slavers. I hope to avoid such circumstances again."

The Holy Queen could only stare, uncertain of the stillness of the oblong shapes above him nor the strange, colorlessness of his aura. "Indeed… tell me, how did you come to be? Were you summoned like the pedestrian angels we've encountered?"

Vehuel refrained from rubbing his neck, a nervous tick he's grown to use in this form, instead looking quickly to Shiehk whom gave a very subtle nod of encouragement, "I actually started out- I mean, was born a human. I acquired something called a Heaven's Feather after a long, arduous and grinding quest, became as I am now."

Her face visibly brightened, smiling as she said, "Remarkable! What a strange world you come from! So, you don't carry the word of some almighty deity or several?"

Vehuel couldn't help but shrugging, "If I do, they prefer to be anonymous. And silent."

Shiehk gave a relieved dropping of eye contact as she silently sighed, before looking to the queen, "He is the commander of Istannice's Seventh Legion, the Seraph of Audacity."

"Seventh? How many legions do you have?" The Holy Queen seemed perturbed by the possibility of more than thirty-five thousand armed militants neighboring her, if the assumption that there were indeed one through seven full legions of five thousand men each.

"Seven, one for each of the original Princes." Vehuel explained before Shiehk coughed into her fist, warning her prince not to continue any further.

"We do not plan on bringing the might of any towards you or your people." Shiehk reassured, accepting a goblet of wine from a nearby servant.

"But there is more than one prince?" Queen Calca retrieved her own wine, suddenly perplexed.

Vehuel's stance visibly stood taller as he looked to Shiehk, whom explained, "We don't know what happened to the others, all we have now is the Prince with us."

She visibly looked saddened, her gaze drew slowly to the floor, an arch of scaly brows peeked above her eyes before she sighed and returned her gaze to the queen, and Vehuel wasn't sure if such naked display of sorrow was intentional or not, but it certainly had convinced him. "I beg your pardon, but I would greatly prefer not talking on it."

"Yes, of course." The queen was trying to think of something else to probe these outsiders with but was interrupted as the angel strode forward towards her.

"I beg your pardon, but I would like some of your time to myself before any of the feasting begins and I'm certain the others would like the minister's attention to themselves." The seraph looked towards the robe laden lady, whom seemed to glare at the celestial being before she nodded back towards him in surrender, saying a quick farewell to the queen then sending yet another dreadful leer towards the angel.

The ring didn't tell her much besides the fact this Minister Shiehk was _very_ nervous, and the angel still seemed somewhat an enigma of an aura to read. Vehuel looked to Calca in a relaxed hunch, "I apologize for my less than cordial arrival earlier, I would have happily talked your ear off but we understand the humans here might not like things that are uh, well, not human and wished to take a careful pace so you may trust us sooner."

The Holy Queen instantly recognized the signs around the angel, he was ernest, yes, but he was also tinged with worry for both his own and the people here. "Oh, we appreciate your efforts, truly. Is that why you gave me this?"

Vehuel gave a nod, "We were worried, a _lot_, that if you decided to use it that it would make it look like we were controlling you through it. It can be taken off whenever you like, but it may be jarring, your body might become dependent on it and I doubly so wouldn't recommend wearing it all the time."

She was surprised out how completely human the angel sounded now, needing to remind herself that it was derived from human stock and may not have completely stopped being human in every respect. "I will tell you a small secret; the Prince will be making an appearance later, much later, deep in the early morning." He lifted his hand and, despite not having any lips to read and simply for the conspiratorial tone of the act, blocked his mouth region as he knelt slightly and said, "He'll likely be in the kitchens if he can help it."

She gave a tiny sigh, her mind instantly thinking to the portly nobles in her own court who do nothing but gorge; a fat and greasy creature. "Would he require any sort of accommodations? I'm certain we can find room for him to stay."

"He'll be leaving at dawn with a few others that have already arrived, he's very excited to reveal himself to you, Luis never had a conversation with an actual queen." He then lifted a finger, "But know this; no bowing, curtsying, kneeling or such formal displays, it really gets on his nerves."

"What has he been doing? If I may ask." The queen put a hand on her chin, "And where would he be leaving to?"

"Uh well, he has been trying to understand this world, plus trying to ascertain whether or not you were an able monarch to treat with, we were worried our neighbors were tyrannical and he saw to make certain of the facts."

"He's been _spying_ on my countrymen to tell whether or not I was 'worthy' enough?" Calca couldn't keep the distain from her voice as she crossed her arms, "And you admit this?"

_Then_ Vehuel rubbed the back of his head, "Well… sort of spying… I uh… um… wanted to make sure everything would be alright; we want to help but we're very cautious about where to begin with or whom."

"So, as one of your city's military leaders: you can also arrange for our own people to investigate _your_ people in the near people. We don't desire to affiliate ourselves with people that we could perceive of less savory morality." Glaring at the Seraph.

"Jesus…" He muttered under his breath as he placed his face in his hand, "I didn't mean to offend you in-"

"Good!" Calca suddenly smiled, "I eagerly await to visit this Istannice of yours!" Before leaving for the next guest.

Vehuel stared at the creature as she departed. It was only in part due to his frustration, while the rest had his eyes wandered to her marvelous rear. 'AH!' He slapped his face, 'Focus!' He commanded himself, "Shiehk's going to kill me…" View darting to the minister, "…maybe she can find out when we leave?" Quickly looking around for Felrrin, whom he spotted walking to a few robe clad clerics of somekind, moving his way towards the sand-elf, "A word?"

The made their way to a secluded corner and he inquired in mounting panic, "D-do you have anything that can hide you, me and the other two from getting tracked by Shiehk?"

"Oh." She placed a finger to her lip coyly, "I _may_ have a few items that can deny the minister her mystical sight." She smiled broadly, "Whhhy?"

"I made an oopsie…" He rubbed his neck, "And I fear she will have my head on a plate, cancel this expedition, and um well, I've already been punished once by her before and would rather not repeat it…"

_Four days ago…_

_Vehuel sat in his meditative, cross legged stance, focusing on molding his pedestrian form to his whims and notions…_

"_My Prince…" Shiehk declared as she entered his chambers, breaking his concentration. He turned to see not only Shiehk herself but three black-iron dragons at her flanks, one even upon his room's ceiling, directly above him, burning red eyes focusing upon him._

"_M-Minister…" He nodded back, "What's happening? Is everything alright?"_

"_Do you recall your fondling of me on the Bastion? How I vowed I would return the favor when at all possible?" She looked at her nails, cruelly bored. "I may have told a few of my half-brothers of what may have occurred, and they took exceptional disagreement with the act."_

_The trio of dragons breathed out black smoke in agreement._

_The Prince would never deign to harm these creatures, but he himself was terrified of what they would do to him. "I um see…"_

"_I suggested that they must adhere to their duties as guardians of Istannice, so thus cannot harm any citizen lying therein, let alone their prince… but I may have convinced them to treat you as a training dummy from…" Taking out an hour glass from her robes and turning it over, "This hour onwards…"_

_The three dragons launched themselves at the seraph, as his aura tried to cope with the sudden terror._

Vehuel swore he felt an eye twitch. He didn't even have physical eyes in this form. 'I can still smell the the sulfur…' "I would see to it that you are rewa-" Being interrupted when she lifted a ring, matte black and riddled with sand-elf runes to the Prince's face.

"Don't put it on until we leave, she'd notice the effects due to her magical senses, and I'll see to it the others have their own." She leant in and whispered, "I'll keep my kin busying the humans and deterring them from meeting the minister properly, with luck, she shan't know of your error until deep into the morning, long after we have left." Placing it in his open palm.

"Thank you," He gave a long, relieved nod.

"As for a reward," Sliding her hand down his arm, "Let's just say you owe me a favor."

Vehuel wasn't sure what made him more nervous; the flirtatious nature of his companion or the ominous tone of the service he may have to provide the elf.

[]

As the feast began, Vehuel was tempted just to find a closet somewhere, change into his more human form and sit down at the table and binge. As a man who loved food possibly more then God; he swooned at the sights before him: roasted hog, greasy and bubbling with well-cooked fat, numerous fowl almost fried in honey, soups, chowders, warm loaves of barley bread, delicate vegetables that consisted of carrots, potatoes, corn and various roots and sprouts he couldn't quite identify, then there was the vast amounts of wine. Wine! At the dinner table! Luis had to get the authorization of three different departments of the Holy See just to cook with it and if he, his staff or any of the guests had been the tiniest bit tipsy, he would have been sent an inquisitor. Just being visited by one would ruin his business, and that was the best-case scenario when dealing with them! The fermented juices of the divine grapes only used for things like Holy Communion, Transubstantiation, and the amount used was barely able to fill a thimble. There were red wines, which filled most people's cups, as well as a rare number of whites and roses', and these were often presented with cheeses and tiny, malnourished looking fruit slices.

And there Vehuel hovered at the side of the banquet. Hunger unable to plague him as a seraph; yet Luis never felt more starved in his life. The smells alone set his senses ablaze in need.

He was looked at only several times over the event, often over exploits that were committed in YGGDRASIL, such as his third-place position in the World Champion's League event. While the event was not a victory for Vehuel, only being rewarded to reskill into World Defender; he was fundamentally and deeply disturbed by the banter. The NPCs _knew_ and recalled events that had actively taken place in the game, where they were little better than decorative defense barriers for the Gilded's home.

This thought made him worry less only when it turned to night, where he saw the strange and wonderous sky again. Vehuel wandered to the balcony and stared at it all again, making damn certain he was sure footed and didn't just float mindlessly to the sky.

But as he indulged in the visage of the night, he felt a small tap on his scalp. Vehuel thought it was an insect, but as he took his hand back, he pinched a pearl of clear water between his finger and thumb. Then another tap, now on his shoulder. And another, on the chest. Then the thigh. Then they came so quickly he couldn't tell them in order.

The only water he knew that came from above were the vast green houses and tall farmhouses that reached the dome tops, the eloquently called 'Bread Boxes'.

This was _rain_. From an unsick earth.

The seraph was stunned by this bizarre, banal event that when he finally sobered from it, the people whom just dined in the room at his back were long gone, the candles dimmed. He looked to the sky and declared, "**Rulthiel, I call upon thee!**" A second later, a blue pillar of light erupted from the sky and the archangel of knowledge knelt before his sire.

"What is your bidding, my liege?"

"This world, I want you to learn all you can from it." Ignoring as the angel NPC continued to kneel, his passion and yearning leaking into his orders, "I want to know this world, what it's called, I want to know the skies and the bodies that dwell in it, the places where souls go when they die, what gods who raise their temples on this earth, the histories of all peoples that you can find and if there is any pattern or rhythm that we can understand to it all."

There. Luis had gone off the deep end. He just demanded someone to tell him that carious curiosities of nature and existence. The universe, the afterlife, god, personhood and fate. Vehuel seemed hesitant to call the whole thing off, apologize for bothering Rulthiel and call it a night, but as the archangel stood up, he nodded his unquestioning compliance. "As you command, my Prince." Before flying off north, back assumedly to Istannice.

"Well, that's once egg I'm worried I'll overboil later." Vehuel shook his head, "After this, I'll make sure he gets a break from the mission." Muttering his chant, "「His Feet, Part of Iron, Part of Clay」." The angel quickly shrinking down into his human form. He looked down at his clothing; a humble coat of brown fabric, cotton white shirt, a long pearly scarf in place of his vestments, dull green trousers and brunette leather boots. While he couldn't modify his skin, hair color, he didn't want to stand out. However, the fabrics were laced with magical resistances, the boots boosted with proofing's against mind-control, illusion magic and a short radius that would trigger counter-time magic. While Vehuel's equipment lacked armor, his physical resistances likely would counter anything he may meet, and even if he was somehow damaged, he had a massive pool of HP to lean on so he could adapt.

He was only lightly soiled by rain when he walked back inside, and only a scant number of servants were still in the palace awake. So, he made his way to the kitchens unmolested, but Queen Calca had yet to arrive.

Instead of going somewhere else to wait, he used this as a prime opportunity to stretch his over-neglected culinary legs. Looking into the larder, he found a bounty of leftovers, and while he would happily sample every one and use them to make whatever dish he could, he wasn't sure if the people here had a plan for them in the future, whether to simply feed themselves or maybe to feed the poor like the how the excess food was had in the various feasts the Vatican performed throughout the year.

So instead, he found a jar of milk in a strangely cold compartment under the food racks, then a sack of flour, a bushel of strawberries and a tiny tin of sugar far in the back. Taking his materials, he lit the hearth, mixed the flour and milk to a fine liquid, then carefully pouring the contents onto a pan he placed above the fire's iron barriers, and while they were slowly cooked, quickly began whisking the remaing milk and pinch of sugar with such precision and energy he surprised himself at how efficient he was. Then, as he flipped the short cakes, cut his fruit and sprinkled him with the remaining sugar.

Just as he scrapped the bottom of the cakes to be placed on a plate, Luis turned to the door when he heard it close. Not only was the Holy Queen herself there, but one of the other humans he saw in the precession, tall, long brown hair that reached the small of her back, but giving a small smile as she saw the prince, contrasting with the slightly shorter, blonde, cautiously passive looking queen.

"Ah!" Luis smiled broadly, lifting the ladel in a small salute, "You are just in time!" Scraping the cakes and placing them gently on a plate, before whisking the fluffy cream one more time and pouring them on the delicacies and scattering the fruit on top of the five cakes and presenting it to the pair. "A simple specialty of mine!"

[]

Calca couldn't stop staring at the man's nose. It wasn't that it was overtly big, ugly shape or covered in warts, but it was unusual in its thinness, a swooping arch where traditionally a sloped bridge would be, and it brought only greater attention to his doe eyes, almond shaped and she felt suddenly relaxed at meeting them. His features were very sharp compared to the common features of humans in the area, angled eyebrows, pointed jaw and sharp cheeks, but what was a real eyecatcher was the pastel grey skin. She was so distraught by this, she paused a moment as her friend spoke:

"Want me to wake the food taster?", Kelart leant over and whispered.

"You try it first and get back to me if I should." Calca whispered back.

The priestess gave a mock huff of disagreement before grinning and taking the confection delicately into her hand, biting into it. Her eyebrows shot up as she licked her lips of the excess topping, looking back at her queen and nodding. "Not bad."

"They're not poisoned, if that's what you're worried about." The grey man reassured her. "I take pride in my cooking skills! If anyone died from my food, imagine my shame." He smiled.

Calca knew Kelart would suggest that she abstain from taking one, but the statement the man made read as truthful to the magic-ring clad queen, and took one, if not out of curiosity, then out of manners. "I am Holy Queen Calca Bessarez." She had to fight the action of curtsying towards the man, an act she has been doing since a small child it was almost as habitual as breathing. "You are Prince…?"

"Yes! My apologies, I'm Luis." He gave a dip of his head towards her. "Prince Luis if you desire to be formal, but I prefer just Luis myself. I have prepared this little breakfast-dessert for you, I know you were given a Ring of Kings, and would warrant taking it off tonight, you'd undoubtedly be hungry when you did so and these are mildly sweet and very filling so it can mitigate-"

"What are you doing?" Queen Calca inquired bluntly. "I've been told that you've been snooping around my country, what are you looking for?"

Luis shrugged simply, "Alright…" He put down the plate, reached into his coat (oh so subtly reaching into the Item Box behind the set of clothes) and took out the map. "I'm looking for people like me."

Kelart and Calca looked at one another before staring back at Luis, "Other Princes?"

"No no, people where I'm from. YGGDRASIL." Luis explained the bread crusts of what YGGDRASIL was, the various realms and the powerful guilds that lived within them, and how he and his city without any knowledge of or explanation, was transplanted to this New World, everything being similar but having remarkable differences. "They might be hurt, scared or confused, and possibly hiding, and with their help, we can gather our knowledge and power, try to figure this puzzle out."

Queen Calca's ring said everything was truthful, but also informed her he was holding back information. 'Already doing better then most nobles here.' Calca gave a satisfied nod, "My thanks, I apologize for my uncourteous attitude."

"Hey! I've had ruder! Why do you think I snuck in so early? I'm trying to avoid Shiehk!" He chuckled, "Besides, talking to a queen is nice, but I'd enjoy it more if it was less one sided! Do you have any siblings?" Taking a short cake in hand as he sat on one of the stools.

"Oh…" As if the being reminded of her brother suddenly brought a tone of unexpected warmth, "I have an older brother, Caspond."

"Me too!" He replied happily, "Maximus, but everyone just calls him Maxi." Luis had to avoid mentioning how he was going to be a father soon, just the glimmer of the idea brought a terrible and mournful glimmer to his chest. "Older by six years, and when we were old enough, we begged and pleaded for another sibling from our parents. We failed."

"Mm." The Queen hummed, "For better or worse, my brother was kind of mean at first when we were growing up."

Luis was about to inquire further, but he noticed a smirking priestess at the side of the room and mournfully shook his head, "Excuse me again, I forgot to ask your name!"

"Kelart!" She responded exuberantly. "What are you?"

"Hm?" Luis inquired, dazed a moment by the inquiry. "Oh yes, I'd like to call myself human."

"But… what are you?" Queen Calca mimed her friend.

Luis simply put a finger on his mouth, smiled and said, "Hmmmm tell you what; I'll answer your question in you answer mine." Unrolling the map and pointing to a grey spot. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's anything crazy going on around this area? Dungeons that just came out of nowhere, unfamiliar monsters or races, around a week or so?"

Kelart shook her head, "Ruins of various origins dot the country and many of the forests and territories in the South remain largely unexplored, with such interests being in the hands of the Adventurer's Guild." She gestured to the map, "There's one in the city and they open at dawn, tell the master there 'temple's call' and they'll know you have my blessing to see whatever information you may need."

"Excellent! Thank you!" Luis walked over and offered her his hand, "I owe you."

The priestess slowly took the hand, but felt a tingling warmth in her palm, but no pain and it wasn't rightly uncomfortable, but startled her enough that she took her hand away. Looking at her hand and noticing no blemish, she asked, "So…?"

Luis grinned deviously, "I never said I'd immediately tell you what I was, but I will in time! Speaking of; I fear dawn is upon us soon so I shall only hint or warn; my kind cannot tell a lie nor a false name, you know me now as Luis and this name was my first." Luis looked to Queen Calca a final time, "Also, I am knowledgeable of your pact with the Seraph and I do apologize my part in it, we meant it with the best intentions, and will gladly have something as beautiful as you and your companion within our walls, you would blend right in with the City Ever-sweet." Strangely, he felt inclined to bow towards the queen in parting, but instead smiled and held up a hand, "Until we meet again, good-queen." Quickly leaving the pair before they could say anything more.

Then suddenly popping back in and stealing another cake before leaving again even quicker.

[]

Azimuth was barely awake before she smelt the ungraced succululancy of sweets. She licked her chops with a barbed tongue vaguely.

"Azi…" Someone taunted her name. "Azi, its time to wake up."

She groaned lowly in disagreement.

"Azi…" Something soft tickled her nose.

She woke with a startled hiss! Immediately latched her wicked, jagged teeth into the intruder!

"Mmm!" She opened her blood red eyes, looking down at the pastry being held up lightly by a pair of grey fingers. She then stared at the fingers owners, his visage unfamiliar to her, but if she knew her name…

"Hi! I'm Prince Luis! Pleased to meet you!"

Azimuth bit off the sweet cake and looked around, she must've slept an entire day and night in the carriage! Sitting up, her matted and wild hair riddle with bedhead whipped wildly side to side, only now noticing the rumbling of the cart as it moved over paved streets. "We are still in the city?" Her voice was croaky at first but then was suddenly remarkably feminine despite her feral, bat like, demonic appearance.

"Yes, I brought you breakfast in exchange for wearing this!" He held out a black ring. "Quickly now, the whipped cream is starting to un-whip itself."

Unquestiongly, Azimuth snatched the ring in the angel's hands and lunged for the pastery in his other. Munching on it happily as she slipped the ring on her finger, both Felrrin and Reynard looked back in mild amusement before looking at their own recent gift of jewelry.

"What's this do again?" Reynard asked.

"Hides us from Death. Or me from Death, more specifically." He explained, before asking the driver, "Hey can this carriage go any faster? I'd like to be indoors soon." Looking nervously behind them.

_Meanwhile; in the Trireme of Journeys…_

Shiehk sat up in her bed, smacked her crusty lips and rubbed dry, reptilian eyes that have the habit of opening themselves in the middle of the night without the woman being aware.

She walked to the corner that held her toiletries, brushed her hair, her teeth and the finale with her morning routine; biting off any loose patch of scaly skin she could find.

Donning her heavy, all consuming attire, she walked to her cabin door, picked up her basket of scrolls that waited in front of it and read the seal of every parchment. Flipping through the low priority issues, she found one unlike the others, the parchment untidy and ill-made. "Oh? The Holy Queen? The humans here work quick." Snapping the sealing and unrolling it, she began reading.

As she did so, one of the graeci marines approached her, "Hail Minister!" Slamming his chest with his fist, "I have prepared a breakfast for you that consists of fresh fish, quail and-"

"**YOU DID WHAT**?!" She screamed into the scroll, "**ALL MY EFFORTS AND YOU SPIT IN MY EYE**?"

The graeci was already gone when she looked at where he once stood. Unable to contain herself, her draconic form peaked from her carefully cultivated discipline, eyes bulged out, veiny and thirsty for the sight of blood, reaching into her Item Box, she pulled out a spell and let out the incantation, "**「****RECALL****」****!**" The scroll lit on fire, but nothing happened, so she pulled out another, "**「****RECALL: VEHUEL****」****!**"

Nothing happened.

"**AHHHH!**" She ran out of the cabin to the top deck, her form quickly changing into a more lizard like appearance, spikes sliding out from her shoulders and limbs, piercing the delicate clothe she adorned, "**YOU EMBARACE MY CITY BY ADMITING OUR ESPIONAGE!**" She cried to the sky voice booming and terribly deep, already having mottled through her clothing, her size increased fivefold, there stood the half-blackiron dragon, curving horns erupted from the flanks of her head forwards like a boney fork, strangely larger than her fully draconic kin, dully shined her black scales against the morning light as noxious fumes of terrible flame spewed from her mouth as she spoke, "**THESE OUTSIDERS DO NOT DESERVE TO SIP THE REFUSE THAT SPILLS OUT OF IT! **_**GAAAHHHHHHH!**_" Wings erupting from the lizard's back, she took flight, taking her rage far away from the neighboring city.

[]

Luis shuddered, "I-is that that place?"

Reynard shrugged, "Sure looks like it. Hey batty!" He yelled to Azimuth who growled back at the fox-man in disagreement at the mounting nick names. "Watch the cart while we're inside, if anyone tries to touch my hogs; eat them."

"I'm a vegetarian, all my kind are! Stupid fox!" Azimuth hissed.

"Branch out. You might like it." Reynard scoffed as he pulled the reins back, his warhogs halting, "Unless its carriage driving…" He mumbled under his breath as he pulled up his the three of them dismounted.

Felrrin, Reynard and Luis approached the Guild Hall, what seemed to be a small castle nestled between several other marketplaces and business roads, the scarce presence of such an early morning population reassured Luis nothing would be stolen, especially if it was guarded by a demonically constructed batwoman.

Opening the doors, they were greeted by a tall, middle aged man with stark grey swept back hair, bleary eyes who was sweeping the greeting front, behind of which was a massive board, twice as tall as the man himself was, and nearly as wide as the whole first floor of the building, the nearly as wide as the whole first floor of the building, the notice board being flanked by a pair of stairs on either side that led up to the second level.

While as towering as it was, the numerous notes and missives didn't exceed arm's length. "Greetings strangers!" The man smiled as the trio entered fully. "New adventurers I take it? You're early, an um an excellent trait!" Momentarily distracted by Reynard's ears, the foxman giving back a toothy grin in response.

"Greetings." Vehuel nodded back and smiled, trying to take the focus off of his beastman companion. "We were referred here by a lady of high repute, she said you can answer possible questions we might have of the area."

The guild attendant gave a weary leer at Luis, "I see…"

"'Temple's Call'?" Luis partly inquired.

"It's too early in the morning- show me where…" the man waved for Luis to come forward while he reached under the desk to take out his map, where Luis pulled out his own, putting it next to the man's for comparison. "Quite the map, where are looking to get to?"

"Here." Pointing on a near mirroring area of the pedestrian map, and where on Luis's map there was nothing but a grey smudge, on the man's map were marks of mountains. "What place is this."

"A cursed place… ruins on the side of hellish hills, infested with strange, powerful monsters. We believe it to have belonged to the Eight Greed Kings, from a survivor of one of the groups that ventured to the area in most recent memory." The guildhall attendant explained.

Luis looked to his two companions, "Where can we find him? What's his name?"

The attendant smiled, "He usually comes around here the beginning of every week if he isn't already on a quest." He rolled up and store the map before gesturing to the board, "If you put your notice up, I'll make sure he gets it, you can stay here for as long as you like but if you weren't planning on sticking around here, any place you might be for the adventurer to meet you?"

"We might actually set up shop somewhere near, can we sell our wears outside?"

"Depends, what are you selling?"

"Oh…" Luis pulled out a scroll, unraveled the coarse twine that held it close, the tail end almost dropping to the floor. "We have some incredible items from… um, a new and exotic manufacturer, but since this is our first day here, we're just trying to get our feet a bit wet in the local market."

The gentleman waved away the list, "Well, you'll be selling to adventurers. If any of it is hogwash, there isn't a more threatening group of customers to wrong or steal money from."

"Indeed!" Luis smiled, nodding to his two companions. "Do come out in maybe a half hour! I'll be setting up breakfast as soon as I get the hearth warm, and your meal will be on me for your help!"

The attendant smiled and his demeanor warming at the offer as he waved them out, "At least a few meters away from the guild hall and not in the middle of the street."

The guided the carriage per his instructions, and when they found the right spot, Luis pulled out his hearth and cooking instruments, whilst the others unshackled Reynard's warhogs, of which the two massive beasts decided to mostly rest and meander near where their owner put down their fodder, Felrrin pulled the various levers and activated the mechanisms magically held within, the wheels turning outwards into tables, the covered clothe growing, spreading its shade like a vast tent and the seats at the fore of the carriage became a sign, saying 'Official Vendor for the Gilded', with said guild's emblem popping out at the top of the sign like a giant coin, but more importantly, in the vast 'Cargo-of-Excess' at the carriage's belly seemingly to be a trap door to operate on the wheels of the vehicle's core, only to rend its own kind of space-time pocket and be a sizeable room filled with items, treasures, potions, ingredients, books and scrolls and still have a fair amount of space available to allow one or two to move around comfortably or even rest in its bowls for a time.

On top of which was a much more exuberant looking Azimuth, whom hid her body in finely weaved and enchanted wicker armor, her wooden mask clearly depicting the features of Aesham, too slanted, angled eyes with visible teeth from pulled back lips and pincer like horns at its sides. She sat whimsically near the Hold of Excess's door, wielding a silvery, single sided dagger in one hand and a simple wooden block the size of her fist in the other. She bowed her head slightly towards her Prince, "With your leave? I vow I will ably watch over my charge even with this distraction."

Uncertain of what she meant, he shrugged, "Uh by all means."

"Thank you." And began to shave small sections off the block with ease and practiced dexterity that it was almost calming to simply watch the woman commit to her hobby further.

"Eminence." Felrrin interrupted his reverie, directing him down. "I have received a message from one of my friends on the ship. It's about the minister of matters."

Luis blinked, "She's is alright? Not hurt in any way?"

"No," She smiled deviously, "But she may have turned into a dragon and burned a swathe of white phosphorus flame across an uninhabited island." Leaning in, "All the while screaming and cursing your name." She winked, "I'm sure she'll get over whatever you did in a few days, a week at most… what _did_ you do, if I may inquire?"

"Oh." Vehuel stood straighter, "Um well, nothing of drastic important. I may have uh, divulged the fact that I had been… snooping! Yes, snooping in the area to Queen Calca."

Both of the eyebrows of sand-elf rose sharply, no hint of coyishness or mischief as she stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I thought telling her the truth would… well, make her trust me."

"Maybe it's best that you stay out of Istannice for a while." She hummed pitifully before smiling, "I would be happy to teach what I know of such elements to one who is clearly lacking in the intricacies of the ministerial world!"

While Luis understood that Felrrin was loyal to Istannice and himself, he knew that she had other ends she desired to fulfill with this. "Well… who better to teach me now with our company?" He meekly smiled, trying to exclude at least a semblance of control.

"I _am_ a political creature after all." She whispered sweetly, running a finger over his scarf in a manner that made Luis instantly lose whatever confidence he had and look away as she continued with, "Just let me know if you have questions, I will answer them no matter the… _taboo_." Before leaving the stunned and bewildered angel where he stood.

"Yes… um…" Luis said to himself, "Yes! Fire, cooking! Something to make me stop thinking!"

[]-[]

**So yes! The NPCs of Istannice are markedly different from Nazarick's due to the very differing points where they were formed; Nazarickai (?) are unquestioningly loyal to Nazarick and the Supreme Beings, they might bicker between one another due to the strange effect of the New World giving them personalities from their makers plus whatever information said creators put into them, they are for the bulkiest part, completely and unwaveringly loyal.**

**NPCs of Istannice are… well, **_**not**_**. It's almost the scales are the other way with these guys. Yes, they are loyal to Istannice, the Princes and the Harshad-Twenty-Seven, but they were meant to be conniving, contentious, passionate and somewhat partisan, and this is definitely the bulk of what they are apart from the personalities and pre-written information. What's more worrying is, unlike Nazarick which can be somewhat compared to the twenty layered tower-cake of evil monsters (baring Nigredo of course, **_**fight me**_**) whom serve their master, Istannice is a city, filled with people. Living people. Arguably no better or worse than the humans and other sapient beings in the New World now. Think about how many more problems that will make for Vehuel. I'll get more onto that in the next chapter, and am very excited to do so, so hopefully I'll pop another chapter out when I'm satisfied with it.**

**Please! Reviews are will be massively appreciated, PMs and comments would be immensely enjoyed, but as always, thank you for reading.**

**Tschüss!**

**PS. I thank you, Angel Rios, with upmost gratitude for both your review and your suggestion. Hopefully you'll have more soon! And questions too! I love questions!**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Machinations Mushrooming

Garuda strode through the Guild Hall's doors, blue steely beaked helm with long white tail of hair at the top shinning in the midday sun, hulking, five-foot long, single sided claymore nearly as tall as he was, a massive sack hunched over his less contested shoulder, bulky puldrons of plate mixing poorly with the lesser quality splint that adorned most of his mass. Many onlookers stared at the falcon-knight as he approached the front desk, despite the looming presence of the creature, the knight had a high-pitched voice that sounded more like a child than that of an adventurer with decades of experience, which asked the man, "Bad night?"

"Grandson has some endurance; I'll tell you that. The lad is barely a year old and can scream down the neighborhood." Lumis explained, "But today hasn't been too bad, how have you been?" He inquired with a smile.

"Productive." Lifting the hand that help the heavy brown bag. "Where do you want 'em?"

"The alchemist's room, there should be a chest free to secure them until the contractor arrives in a day or two." Just as Garuda was going to do as he said, the guild attendant said, "Oh!" Taking out a written piece of parchment, unstamped and seemingly new which made the knight's curiosity inflate to obesity, "When you're done with that, postpone checking the board and go outside to the vender right outside, he wants to talk to you."

While Garuda was loathed to disrupt his nearly ingrained schedule with the Guild, he nodded back, trusting Lumis whom has been a kind acquaintance for many years. The knight slid the sack into one of the larger chests, took the key to lock it off a rack, and just when was closing the lid, the sack opened partially and thin, sinewy vines of fungal matter started stalking along the brown bag's opening.

The spread of the moldy materiel immediately halting when Garuda took out a sunstone, squeezed it firmly and held it in front of the appendages, halting them dead from the harsh rays radiating from the elementally endowed crystal. Garuda spotted the one of of the three decapitated mushroom creatures, a mild and vague indication of where eyes should be and stared back at it, his own gaze seemingly just as hollow from the all-encompassing helm around his head, with only holes to glare from that showed no features.

Garuda slowly pulled the stone back from the fungal infested sack, only for the ropey fingers to grope for freedom once again, immediately shoving the stone back, even closer than before and forcing it back. After a moment of light torture, Garuda again retracted the stone. Only this time the fungus did not make a second attempt to escape. Nodding in appreciation at the mushroom heads in the bag, Garuda bound and tied the bag opening tightly before closing and locking the chest. Setting the key atop the parchment, the knight stated, "Send my money to the usual place, take whatever you need from my reward for postage." Before heading out to meet the person who desired Garuda's presence.

A shop setting up nearby wasn't new, but it was usually restricted to people whom were at one point an adventurer themselves or were trusted sources either prescribed by the guild or were hired specifically because the guild was short of a smith, alchemist or whatever else they may need.

Garuda didn't expect they needed a tavern. People, not just adventurers, were walking about, wooden plates filled to near overflowing with white noodles covered in red sauce with chunks of orbed meat. Unfortunately, one of those patrons recognized the falcon knight, a pointy hatted wannabe sorceress waved at Garuda with fork still in hand, "Hey! Garuda! Get over here!"

The knight crossed his arms at his fellow platinum ranked colleague, Mira, whom unlike Lumis, never valued Garuda's privacy and when they did work together, her mouth or attitude had put both of them and whomever they were with on the harsher side of fate's lash. Nevertheless, Garuda approached Mira, a powerful and cunning magic user per usual, whom was standing at a table which had a long, plain staff of turquoise, simply but perfectly carved points at the bottom and top being the only seeming ornaments or distinguishing features seen. "Look what mama got!" Mira beamed and gestured to said item, "It's a mithril staff! I used an identify spell to check if what the seller said was correct and it was furnished with an enchantment of 'greater-resilience'! Guess how much it cost me!" A strand of hazel hair, usually neatly tied under her eyesore of a hat, came undone from excitement and frame an eye of deep blue.

Garuda gave a bored sigh, shrugging.

"Eighty-Silver!" Mira's magic rings clinked together as she clapped. "Apparently this is their first day in the city and everything is on sale! I already have a few potions I bought with the change they gave me back for the gold piece I had! Maybe you should use this as an opportunity to upgrade your equipment?"

"No." Garuda said simply, "All I have are heirlooms and I shan't neglect them."

"Yes, they certainly look like it." Mira waved dismissively at the armor. "You're a gust of wind away from it all just crumbling to dust… on second thought, don't get anything new! At least with what you have, I might finally just get a peak of what you look like." She winked at the knight, "The betting pool is still there, by the way!"

"Maybe I should rob it…" Garuda put his fist at the end of the beak as if in thought.

"Welcome! Welcome!" A man walked towards Garuda. The knight had to shake his head at his appearance, considering for a second he was a member of the undead, but the newcomer looked to Mira, "How is your spaghetti?"

"It's wonderful, thank you!" She smiled back.

"Can I get you a plate?" The grey man asked.

"No, but fetch your master, I was told he wished to speak with me." Garuda removed his sword and leant it against the table.

"As you wish!" The man replied, turning and walking away a step before turning on the spot and saying, "I'm Luis!"

Garuda growled lowly at the man, "I don't have time for games, boy."

"Good, because I'm not good at them." Luis's tone was suddenly serious, and his smiling demeanor was dampened but not gone. "I'm in charge of this trading post, and it was I who desired to have words with you."

"That so?"

"And you're the first to turn down a plate of spaghetti. Where I'm from, that is almost as offensive as spitting." Luis folded his own arms, "Where we're going, we'll need a sense of deference."

"Where?" Ignoring the insults.

Instead of verbally answering, Luis unraveled a map, placed it on the table and stuck a finger at the destination.

"No." Garuda shook his head sternly. "It was a mistake going there at all, why do you wish to go to such a place?"

"I need answers, it's as simple as that, what treasure or loot you find is yours alongside the payment I would provide."

"So, this isn't through the guild? I only do officially sanctioned work, nothing off the books, I'm no Worker." Garuda leant in, and to Luis's credit, he didn't flinch when the beak was a hair's breadth away from touching his forehead. "Even if I wanted to take it. Which I don't."

"I only want a guide, if any violence will occur it will only be on the way over. Just get us there, we'll do the rest and you can leave." Luis stared back unflinching at the knight.

"You are going to die."

"Does the possibility of death make you a coward? You make for a poor adventurer."

Mira stopped eating and stared in bug eyed terror as Garuda reached for his sword. Luis didn't seem threatened as the knight gripped the pommel, in fact, he gave a small, challenging smile, narrowing his eyes and asked, "You're fairly high-ranking," Looking at Garuda's platinum plate, "let's see if you're worthy enough for it." Of which, Luis didn't seem to have a weapon at all. Which somehow worried Mira even more.

As Garuda lifted the blade up, Mira screamed, "HEY!" Distracting both of them enough that she quickly ran between them, "You!" Pointing at Garuda, "This idiot is unarmed, unarmored and clearly insane. But! His noodles are delicious, so for the sake of that alone, don't kill him for simply insulting you." Turning on her heel and scolding Luis in turn, "And you! You have no right to call my friend a coward! He's been through more you can imagine earning his rank! Barring that, he declined your offer and tried in his way to offer advice in this venture of yours." Mira's scolding gaze quickly turned to a broad grin, "Ignoring advice is my best attribute! Give the coin to me and I'll take you there." Taking her staff off the table and offering her opposing hand.

"W-wait…" Garuda put his blade down and gaze snapped between the two. "You _really_ shouldn't."

"I know the area fairly well, if anything I'll get them just close to the hills and let them figure it out!"

Luis shrugged, "If that's the best with what we can do." Looking back to the carriage, he clicked his fingers, and out of the shady interior out threw a bang of coins into the man's hand. Opening it, "Ooo, we made a solid profit, I think. Last count was around twenty gold, fifty silver?"

Both Garuda and Mira stared at the grey man before the latter looked to the former, "Wanna split it?"

The sorceress could tell Garuda was nearly foaming at the mouth with desire, and Mira capitalized on this fact when she suggested, "I would have a greater chance of returning unharmed if you came."

"Wasn't this supposed to be my job?" Garuda muttered under his breath, before shaking his head and sighing, "Alright, but… two thirds for my portion, since she butts in what was originally just my contract."

"No." Luis put the pouch in the 'pocket' inside his coat. "Half, and I won't discuss this further, leave or stay."

Garuda lifted his head at Luis, biting down his pride and gave a single nod. "I must prepare several things before we leave, and it may take several hours. Where can I find you later?"

"Right here!" Luis smiled, "I'll be preparing dinner before we leave."

"OO!" Mira cooed giddily, "What will it be?"

"I already have an idea for a Shish Kabob, just have to find a good butcher and some mushrooms."

The sorceress looked to the falcon knight, only to see him having already left. "Sorry about him, he's a sour squid."

"Indeed." Luis inclined his head, "Anyways, allow me to introduce you to the others." Gesturing to the cart, "One is currently away, but I'm certain she'll return presently. This!" Gesturing to the innards of the carriage, "Is Azimuth."

Mira was curious how to approach this. There was _nothing_ inside. "Its uh… a very good looking carriage. Very empty."

She looked again only to see two massive plates of glowing red filling her vision. "See with more than eyes." The creature spoke before Mira screamed and launched herself back, pointing the staff at it.

"Azimuth…" Luis chastised lowly as if he was the thing's disappointed parent, "That was very rude."

"Keeps the lady's senses sharp, but…" It fully emerged from carriage and walked towards Mira with an extended arm, long, spindly fingers opening at the human. It's black ash mask leering at the human even as a deceptively calm voice said, "My apologies."

Mira had to look away in horror as she forced her hand into the creature's grasp, whom shook it gladly, but by the gods! They were _so bony_, she could feel the scrappy unevenness in its fingernails as they scratched under her arm, willing herself not to throw up. 'At least it doesn't smell.' But when she considered how something as shaggy and savage as such a thing should reek, Mira realized she couldn't smell anything at all, a complete absence of smell, she even cupped her free hand over her mouth, trying to smell her breath but couldn't detect a whiff of anything. 'What kind of magic…?' She thought before she finally looked back, able to stomach only a moment of looking at her hand in the grasp of _that_, before she retrieved it and nodded. "Y-yes, hello. Are there any others?"

While Mira directed the question to Luis, Azimuth gestured further back behind the carriage, "Follow!"

Following… whatever it was, she looked upon two _massive_ pigs, almost as large as the carriage and with a pair of massive black tusks the size of a grown man's arm contrasting sharply with their rich, pink skin. They leant against each other, laying on their bellies, but clearly not asleep, both chewing something and black eyes darting about. Initially she thought these beasts were scanning for potential threats but as Azimuth and Mira grew closer, saw they were in fact leering at a number of flies that radiated off of them.

"These proud beasts will lead us to our destination in speed and comfort." Azimuth waved towards the hogs, "But their master lies betwixt them; long slumbering from self-imposed, blasphemous boredom." Azimuth took out a small dart from a hidden pocket on her hairy body. "Animal's sleeping dart. It will route our quarry that lays between them. Behold:" Crouching down slightly with the monster, Mira spotted a pair of boots that jutted out near their heads. She heard a tiny tic, almost unnoticeable like a rain drop hitting a roof, then one of the pigs moaned and fell on its side, on top of the one they were protecting.

The feet of the hidden man were kicking wildly in panic, muffled screaming being heard over both the instantly snoring hog and the complaints of the still conscious pig having its space intruded upon.

Mira, although all for a good joke, was running to the man and pulling on his boots to try and save him from being crushed or suffocation.

A second later, the pig began to lift over the man, whom only seemed to be mildly struggling with the load he bore, whom yelled, "Get your own shoes, ya soddin'-!" Looking down at his would-be thief and pausing. "Hello my lovely." The foxman smiled cheekily, "I'll get this sleepy boy to lay somewhere else, then you wanna take his place on top of me?"

Mira didn't even _hear_ the man speak, staring with shock at the display of strength. 'Either the giant pigs weigh nothing, or he lifted over a ton at least!' But then she felt cold air running through her legs, ankle and womanhood, she looked down; the beastman's other foot was lifting her robes as she crouched, holding onto his other foot. She flushed, stared back at the man lividly, whom still continued to smile even as he knew he had been discovered. He wiggled his eyebrows, "Underwear is overrated anyways."

"AHH!" She took her quarterstaff and stabbed it down, directly on the beastman's manhood.

He yelled out in agony, his arms straining not to reflexively snap his hands to cradle his genitals until the great pig slammed back down.

Mira turned, Azimuth was no longer in sight, but Luis was seen not too far away. "Two minutes, and Reynard already sexually harasses one of the new party members." The grey man said shaking his head, before biting off a chunk of cheese he had, then looking sternly at the ground. Mira noted a haze in his eyes as if Luis was, for a moment, petrified in his own mind, just more than a second, but long enough for her take in the sheer dread he momentarily expressed before he turned and entered the cart.

_Meanwhile…_

Garuda sighed in relief when he finally pulled off the helm around his head, quickly opening his mouth over and over, his jaws cracking audibly, green feathers flexing as he breathed, and his nasal passages were free to breathe. Garuda looked around his ramshackle housing, confident that none of the homeless had taken residence in his absence and discarded the rest of his armor to rest for an hour free of it.

"Hey Barry!"

Garuda blinked wide, bird like eyes, gave a startled hoot, his beak opening wide instinctively at the intruder as he gave a terrifying shriek all too similar to the hawks and birds of prey that nest in the area. The intruder didn't seem phased by the cry, nor Garuda's avian appearance. "Hare…" Garuda croaked after a moment, shaking his head. "Why are you here? Is something wrong at the orphanage?"

Hare himself seemed to have put on weight, muddy blonde hair only just beginning to sprout across the expanding, fatty chin beneath his jaws, offsetting the usual, malnourished image Garuda had of his friend, the chubby teen smiled with gusto and raised his arms up to hug the birdman, "It's been months! Why haven't we seen you again?"

Garuda accepted the embrace but had to lean down considerably to accept the far shorter boy-man, patting the scraggy mat of hair on top of his head, "The last time they saw me, some of the new faces thought I was going to adopt one of 'em." Garuda scratched where his beak met the feathery fuzz of his face. "And besides, it's always weird going back like… this."

"Did you ever check on that one witch in the south? Could she have broken the curse?"

"Yes but the price was too high." Garuda shook his head, his crest rising in annoyance. "Breaking the curse would have also taken the strengths that the armor gives me."

Hare wasn't smiling anymore, "Sometimes I wish that knight never got you."

"Wishes can't buy food, but the curse has had its benefits." Garuda smiled at Hare, "So why are you here? Just to say hello?"

Hare grimaced, "They'll… mistress Burma will be putting me to the street next month… I was wondering if I could co-"

"No." Garuda quickly protested, "I'm going on a quest tonight and where I'm going is where Ser Alkon died and the very same place where I had to first put on the armor just to survive!"

Hare seemed to have taken the disagreement to its fullest, remembering the day Garuda came back after nearly a year travelling with the falcon knight. "But… I don't have anywhere to go… maybe I can find work on the road? I'm sure the villages are desperate for hands with everyone trying to leave for the cities."

Garuda's brow lowered heavily, "Do you plan on going back?" While Garuda had more friends and people he cared about at the orphanage, he couldn't imagine what his life would be if Hare and him drifted apart.

"I uh I don't know." Hare grimaced, trying his best to stay calm. "Please, I'm sure the adventurer's guild won't-"

"This isn't a Guild quest, not a true one." Garuda shook his head, "Which makes me even more worried then I would if it was just going back to the Cursed Hills. This feels too close to Worker activities, I _do not_ like this, and the man who's funding it all gives me some very bad feelings."

"Please." Hare pleaded once more.

Running a hand over his beak before Garuda closed his eyes, "We need to get our story straight…"

[][]

Luis sighed mournfully as he bit the flank of pork off his wooden needle. He didn't taste the meat, now perfectly crispy but not too dry or burnt, the smokey wood infused in its tender flesh, nor the essence of mushrooms skewered along with the meat. It was just… particles, atoms, molecules vibrating at higher frequencies then the area around it and derived from the flesh of certain animals, flora or fungus.

The seraph was happily relieved when he heard content sighs and hums of joy, fearing that he seasoned it wrong or overcooked everything in the hearth. A chef who can't taste his own fare in its preparation is an orator who can't read their own speech, or an artist that sees colors only in shades of grey.

Mira waved at Luis from across the fire they expanded from the hearth; "This is spectacular! If we live through this, the Adventurer's Guild should permanently hire you as a cook!"

The thought did give the angel a twinge of both yearning and nostalgia, the idea of just going through a facsimile of his old human routine without any of the bizarre baggage of Istannice or its denizens was more than a little tempting, and with all the exotic and rare ingredients he could get, he could let his imagination go wild and experiment continuously. "I'm afraid such ventures are beyond my reach. Would any of you like my serving?" Offering his barely touched plate of skewers to those in the circle.

"Hope it's enough for me and my boy."

Luis turned to see the shape of Garuda's dull and aged armor being teased by the light of the hearth, alongside him stood another, barely half the knight's height but clearly human of adolescent age, brown scraggy hair, freckled and chubby, smiling hesitantly at the group. Before Luis could even ask, Mira stood straight up and demanded, "You have a _kid_?!"

"C-clearly, yes." Garuda nodded at the sorceress. "This is Hare, I'll be taking care of him on the trip, but I'll have to ask for half of my payment upfront for… equipment."

In an eye blink, a certain sand-elf had appeared from the darkness at Vehuel's side. Felrrin smiling coyly, "Mister Bird here is lying, of course." Carrying a bag of scrolls and clattering mechanical components, knowingly winking at the newcomers.

Luis gave a quick, "It matters not." Before pausing, looking down, forced a smile and gave the wooden plate to Hare. "I'll provide your payment, wait here." Having another distilled facsimile of joy when the boy stared wide eyed at hunk of meat he had eaten off of and smiled widely.

Felrrin looked down at Mira and nodded towards the sorcerer, "Magic user I take it?"

"The hat gave it away?" Mira smiled back.

"Oh, and the staff. And the aura."

"And the lack of underwear…" Reynard chuckled lowly.

Both the Sand-Elf and the Falcon Knight gave a confused look at the Foxman, whereas Mira gave a scornful leer. "Magical specialists; ever wonder what's under the robes?" Shaking his head while bouncing his eyebrows a few times.

Felrrin gave a small smile, "Hmmm minister Shiehk?" She said to herself while she walked into the carriage.

Garuda however wasn't capable of even looking at Mira now, his beaked helmet turning one way then another actively trying to avoid a glimmer of the woman in his gaze, even as Luis provided the bag of gold to him.

"Watch it!" Hare declared, ducking under his beak as his friend whipped it about, mouth full of food.

"S-sorry." Garuda choked.

"It is an odd pattern indeed." Azimuth strolled out of the carriage, taking a spit that rested not too far from the fire, before sitting her shaggy form down next to a terrified Hare, whom stared at her with utter terror, stopping every action including breathing.

Garuda reached for his blade, sheathed and resting on his thigh, as he also stared at the bizarre, masked creature.

But as Azimuth lifted her wooden visage enough to reveal her mouth, filled with wicked, jagged splinters of bone, she stopped bringing the stick up to the opening, instead, groaned lowly in disgust before ripping a block of meat off the stick and carefully presenting it to the boy. "Hate meat, would you like mine?"

Hare took the piece of food, slowly and without taking hos eyes of the courteous monster.

Azimuth then looked up to Garuda, "I vow thus: your child will be safe while I yet draw breath."

Hare squinted, "What are you?"

"A maiden, why ask you?" Biting off a mushroom and smiling wickedly at Hare. "A bit young for me you are."

"You're a _woman_?" Both Garuda and Hare stared at her burly, hairy form for any sign of the traditional traits of the fairer sex.

"My peers had warned mine charms would affect others thusly." Azimuth tittered.

"There is so much wrong with this conversation." Reynard sighed. "We got Gilded Mead? Gotta get wabbajacked ta forget you hava gash."

"Sweet toothed child." Azimuth muttered at the man-beast.

"Furry little shite." Reynard insulted back.

"Idiotic infidel." She spat back.

"Ugly arse."

The whole party were observing the display of the two trade insults, but at the last one, Azimuth stood up and hissed viciously at foxman, whom in turn stood up and gave a challenging grin as he put up his fists, "Any time, batty!"

Mira, Garuda and Hare stared in morbid fascination as they could almost see their aura's flare visibly, challenging one another to the first move.

However, Luis was looking on with intense, if bewildering, nostalgia at the standoff, the scene reminding the angel of countless times Maxi and Anthony had such confrontations, the two despised each other almost to the point Anthony nearly quit the Gilded, twice and Maxi had to give _YGGDRASIL _a wide berth for a time before coming back to 'work'. How many duels did they perform? The jibes might have changed, but the presence of the progenitors of their respective NPC creations was unmistakable and Luis found himself smiling before breaking out into laughter, catching the attention of all around including the clashing wills of Azimuth and Reynard. "Lord in Heaven; this takes me back." Luis shook his head, continuing to chuckle, "Ahhh goodness gracious, if Nasazel and the golden bull were here now…"

The Aldrikkni and beastman exchanged a single, awkward glance at each other before sitting back down. "If you still want that mead, I can…?" Luis offered.

"One for us as well?" Azimuth raised a clawed hand, "Forgetting might be in both our interests, fox."

"Want to try some?" Luis offered the new party members, still grinning like a fool.

Mira nodded and smiled back, with Garuda shaking his head firmly, "None for the boy either."

"Hey!" Hare glared at Garuda.

Luis chuckled once more before departing to the innards of the carriage, for the first time as well. There was a moment of bewilderment, an internal perplexment which Luis wasn't sure if it was bound strictly to entering the pocket dimension or if his senses were overcompensating, somehow expecting a far smaller compartment of holding cargo then what he met. While the carriage was sparse, the hold was filled with warm orange light coming from torches that filled the main corridor, with one being held in front of individual doors that granted access to specific categories of items, the walls themselves were rich, brown mahogany planks, smooth and shinnying in the light.

Luis followed the single path down until he found the 'Consumables: Food/Drink', where he was met by a cornucopia of various foodstuffs, the closest and most tempting to pilfer being the vast stacks of cheese wheels. There lay dozens of cheddars, swiss, mozzarella, gouda, feta, but then he remembered that he probably wouldn't be able to taste any of them anyways and tried to focus in on find the beverages he sought, ignoring the cured meats that dangled on hooks, the bushels of fruits and vegetables, and the shelves of sweets. 'Wines, ales, beers, ports, ah! Mead!' Luis smiled as he looked down the columns of different bottles, before coming across the correct label and pulling out three bottles of clear, honey golden filled liquid, their caps encased in green wax.

"I thought angels were traditionally messengers," Luis heard Felrrin say behind him, "not waiters."

The seraph gave a small sigh, stating as his he cradled a bottle with one arm and held the other two in his hands, "I'm not sure you've noticed but I'm not a traditional kind of angel." Turning to see the sand-elf, smiling that strange and slightly menacing smirk that their patron minister Melkoth seemed to have permanelty affixed to his features, arms behind her back, protruding her chest out slightly towards him, enough so that when Luis did look on her bosom that a glimmer of orange briefly flooded the angel's vision. "Would you be so kind?" Offering a bottle.

"My Prince." She nodded and took the bottle, "May I make a personal inquiry?" She asked as they both left the chamber, the door humming and glowing a dim light as it magically sealed the items inside from natural decay or spoilage.

"Sure." Luis responded curtly to the elf walking with him.

"I've noticed a strange flux in your behavior, is everything alright?"

'_Besides feeling suddenly more angely because the Mortal Fruit's effects left me, no, I want to taste food again_.' Luis thought to himself, "The minister of matters is a concern of mine, and I am… feeling off, but nothing to worry about." But then remembered how flustered he became just _speaking_ to an attractive woman, and given how clearly Felrrin's flirtations have been plus the warnings of her from Shiehk, it may be best that he acts less like his old mortal self.

"Anything that I can do to help?"

Luis looked over to Felrrin and spotted the swarthy elf's feature's carried no tone of seductive subterfuge, instead, earnest concern.

Luis opened his mouth briefly, about to ask if maybe the Mortal Fruits could be made without killing, stealing the life and memories of other people, or if something can be done about this mood-altering aura but felt both that the question to be reserved for Rulthiel, someone he can trust more easily and surely, closing his mouth with a shut, and said, "I… um nothing neither of us can really fix, but thanks."

Felrrin nodded back, "None for you?" Lifting the bottle in her hand.

"No, I uh honestly never drank before." Which was technically true in he only ever sipped wine when some cardinal, preacher or unlucky priest had to hold the tiny cup to his mouth and hand him a wafer. "I think I want to, but I can't even taste food anymore so…" Shrugging, "what'd be the point?"

Felrrin gave a deep cackle, "I assure you; most people don't drink for the taste."

Luis had to think of the possibility of getting drunk. He met a drunk once, a face they saw in the neighborhood a thousand times but never had a name to him, when he and Maxi were boys. The guy was weird, spouted nonsense but seemed to be having a very good time. Neither brother saw the slob again after, presumably picked up by the inquisitors shortly after. "I'm not sure if my physical resistances would allow me to get inebriated, no matter how much I consumed."

"Hm." Felrrin sounded back politely. "I assume this has to do with that item you ate in the Depths, from the Hell-Tree?"

Luis paused in stride, suddenly feeling cold paranoia fill his lungs, orange fully engulfed his vision before his once wide eyes narrowed and glared at the elf, "How did you hear about that?"

"Oh those Aldrikkni are very talkative when one properly butters them up, they'll go on and on about Nasazel, their lords and their faith for hours…" She smiled proudly, hands on hips, "but the patient hunter gets the rabbit eventually, and they told me of you and the Archangel of both Truth and Compassion overseeing a prisoner being fed to it. I've seen you recently eat with great gusto since we've set up shop, but now you are so sullen and uninterested in having more, I can only assume it is related somehow."

'_Moron, idiot, stupid, ditz, halfwit…'_ His thoughts, sounding exactly like Shiehk, "I shouldn't be surprised." Luis forced a smile, feeling betwixt the desire for some kind of balancing act to establish himself as clever or always thinking ahead, but it came out in a joking guffaw "Or maybe I already knew that you knew? Maybe I want this particular element in the expedition to be found by the most observant?" As he continued their walk and opened the hatch to the outside world.

Felrrin's face warmed in both excitement and anticipation, looking down briefly while smiling from ear to ear, ears flexing slightly making the charms in her hair clink, 'O-of course! He's testing us! I shall prove myself superior to Shiehk! To Melkoth himself!' Her head filled with images of the Prince and the Seven ministers welcoming her to join them at the palace, with her own seat where her forebearer's once sat! 'Ozzydamandius would be proud to have you as his heir.' The Seraph stated warmly with a bow at the waist.

"Heh… hehe…" Felrrin laughed lowly, closing her eyes and raising a hand to her cheek, "Forshame making me feel this emotionally overwhelmed…" She mumbled to herself as she waved meekly at invisible admirers.

Luis stared at the woman, opening his mouth for a moment before walking slowly over to her, confident her daze was both intense and not in the realm of lethality, slowly reached out and took the third bottle back into his arms, Felrrin making no motion or sign of awareness of the act. 'Well, whatever this is…' Luis smiled as he left her be and exited the carriage, closing the hatch quietly as not to disturb the elf, 'I am glad she's enjoying her time abroad.'

[]

Rulthiel tapped the end of his knuckles against the door, the thud so resounding he thought he may have overdone the act altogether, small noches appearing where his angelic armor had scraped.

"By Surshana!" A man called out dimly, "I hope She shall descend upon whatever idiotic head is knocking on one of her houses at this time of ni-!" A wizened elder with dark, heavily wrinkled skin, a long, thin mustache and deeply hooded eyes at first glared, then stared, before giving a bewildering, gruff yelp of horror at the angel's torso.

"Fear not," Rulthiel's voice not so much as boomed as flowed, but the vocalist carried that alien element of it being spoken from not out a throat but from one's entire being, "I wish you no harm."

The ancient priest of the dilapidated Temple of the Six Great Gods looked up, "W-wh-why are you here?"

The angel laced his fingers together, "I seek information, my spells have led me to this place." Lifting free one hand and slowly dropping it down directly in front of the temple's caretaker, "「Charm Person

」." White light sprung from the angel's palm, and for a moment, the elderly man's eyes glazed over, numb, before quickly looking back at the angel, fear being replaced by vigor and joy.

"Ah! Welcome, welcome!" Gesturing to the temple's innards while walking to the side, allowing the angel entrance.

"Please, show me what you have hidden, I shan't be long." Rulthiel had to stoop low through the door to see inside of it. The crude, mold ridden and poorly upkept center of worship, long abandoned by its time-lost worshippers. A large gaping maw in its flat ceiling barely kept out the poor weather that would happen upon the area, a pond of filthy water the size of a large dinner table formed under the opening, random bottles had been placed to catch rain water, and lush greenery in the forms of ivy dangled over the wooden joists, with small pink flowers and moss forming at the edges of the tiny pond. Despite the urgency of completing the mission given to him by his Prince, Rulthiel paused and floated over to simply stare at it. Only after a few moments did he question, 'Why am I doing this?' There was nothing gained in the observation, no hidden truth dragged to light, and he gave doubts if it had any relation to his duties but the sight somehow just… enthralled him.

"Friend!" The temple's caretaker declared, holding a torch in front of a small, hidden door far back of the temple, past the desiccated shrines holding six, small statues. While tempted to again observe the simple effigies, Rulthiel reminded himself that his spell on the man only lasted for several hours and he can't abuse what time he might not have in gathering the place's knowledge.

The angel stared at the small opening, before muttering, "「His Feet, Part of Iron, Part of Clay」." The archangel of knowledge's armored form grew a bright blue before melting away into divinely forged flesh, but instead of the bare and unrefined forgerys made by his Prince and sister, he recalled the former's latest form and imitated it as closely as he could, but he was devoid of all color, hair stark white, skin not even grey, merely a pale sheen almost, all but his eyes were snowy white, which formed a deep ocean blue against a night sky black. The resized angel followed the elder after his transformation was completed, the divine creature muttering another series of spells to insure his secrecy from remote viewing or the detection of his presence.

The tunnel kept climbing down, and down, and further down, the stone staircase was no longer reflective of the neglected building the houses it, worn yes, but the stone was of exotic granite, and the walls were unusually clean. As they met a metallic door, the elderly man turned with, "Here we are, the vault that was left to my ca- dear GODS!" He placed a hand in front of the nude angel, "Why are you naked?!"

Rulthiel blinked, "My apologies, I must've overlooked this element of mortals…" He muttered a spell, his body being covered in simple robes, "I'll endeavor to remember in the future."

The elder let out a humored sigh, "It takes some bravery to walk around in the cold as you were, come." Gesturing to inside the chamber with the torch, "I only wish I had a portion of such gall; I would've left this post years ago if I did."

"Yes," Rulthiel smiled to himself, "audacity seems to be a hereditary aspect in my family."

"Here," The elder walked up to a large series of glass cases, held secured with iron chains securing them with magically runed padlocks. "I was not charged with keeping the key to these secrets, the Cardinal of Wind wouldn't wish the lock and key being in the same place, one of the few times I agree with those idiots back Kami Miyako."

"It is no issue, 「Knock」." Pointing a hand at the padlock, but instead of it being unlocked, the item rumbled and knocked against the glass. This made the angel's brow shot up in surprise, "Impressive magic, I was under the impression the strength of you humans in the Arcane was simple… not that it will stop me. 「Greater Unseal」!" He extended both hands to the padlock, the device quickly unfastening then dropping to the floor, pink mist flowing from the pours and crevices. "There!" Opening a section of the case, muttering another spell, seeing the conjuration leading him to the precise tome that led him here. Opening it, he sighed, "Tell me, my friend…" Unable to read the text, "What do you call this place? This world?"

"Earth?" His 'friend' replied quickly, uncertain of the question.

"「Comprehend Languages」." The text widening and flexing to the angel's eyes, "What of other worlds?"

The man shrugged, "I can't recall, the Six did know of other worlds beyond our own, the lands of demons, also a place with no sun, but they also spoke of another set of worlds, built upon a large, divine tree."

"It says here… this world, this new world I and my kinsmen find ourselves in isn't truly upon a rack of branches, but merely an orb in celestial winds… one of many. And your God, Alah Alaf, called the sun Brahma, the single moon that weaves around us, Sakra, and the earth on which we stand," Closing the book sharply, "Indra." Placing the book under an arm and looking to the elder, "There is much here to study and not enough time for one sitting, even for myself, so I must ask one more thing of you:" Extending a hand out, "「Sleep」." Quickly catching the falling man and taking him back to the temple, finding a dry, safe spot, the angel disrobed and placed his clothing both under his head and over him like a blanket to keep him warm. "I fear I shall have to make this evening more of a dream to you and pray that fate ensures that the your punishment will be light." And while conducting the spell, Rulthiel also might have cured a few issues he may have had. Namely, the elder's bad back, inflamed by his recent act as guide to the angel. Then his issues with indigestion. Then maybe regrowing a couple teeth that were going bad. But that was it! He would swear it in front of the Prince!

Rulthiel returned to the vault, and teleported both himself and the case of lore back to his aerie in Istannice. He instructed his angels to begin scrying the knowledge, translating it to their own tomes, while he theorized and began to find the next subject, 'Where people go when they die'.

Despite the amount of work he set himself to, one more thing had to be added on in the form of his brother, Nothiel. "Greetings, how fare you?"

"My fare is vast, clearly, why are you here?" Rulthiel commented as he placed down his pens, one in each hand. "The Prince would undoubtedly want these as soon as possible."

"I'm actually looking for our sister. The Minister of Matters desires her skills in the human den."

Rulthiel had to pause to think, "Vanniel hasn't been sent on a mission of her own? I can think of no other reason why she would leave the city."

Nothiel shook his head, the crimson vestiges floating briefly as he beat his wings frustratingly, "I am tempted to have a mage of yours find her for me, then I would scold her accordingly."

The angels of Truth, righteous and diligent, were no where near as scholarly bestowed as Rulthiel and his own, feeling a smug, satisfied curve in his breast from the fact, the archangel of Knowledge pushes the feeling aside, "Of course, brother." Rulthiel floated to the edge of his aerie and yelled out, "Yamaniel!"

An angel of knowledge flew up, his hood was without marking, his wings minute compared to the two archangels, but blue ribbons dangled from his belt, angelic-script lacing it's surfaces with wards to protect against enemy spellcasters, "Your will, my archangel?"

"Find our sister, Vanniel, for the arachangel of Truth." Before resuming writing down the tome with both hands.

"And if she is able to avoid the scry's spells?"

"She is an archangel; I am sure she will be safe."

"She ignores her duties with her absence!" Nothiel boomed, his rage clearly leaking into his voice, "For what reason would she abandon the city?

[][

"Knight," Luis walked towards Garruda as they walked besides the rolling carriage as they just began to leave the city, the countryside wide and open to them with rolling hills. "what do you know of between here and our destination?"

"A few villages, nothing more then farmers and some lumberyards, then there's a town not too often the beaten path, a uh magic user famed in the area." Garuda explained, "We really should be worried about the destination in question."

Luis nodded slowly, "Please, explain."

"That's the issue, there isn't much to say on my part." Garuda lifted his arms, "Our group barely got near the hold, built into the bloody rock as if molded from the living mountain itself, but then these monsters, things that weren't even in the Adventurer's Guild vast bestiaries, they killed six Orichalcum adventurer's almost instantly!"

"What were they like?"

"Giants, but… different. They were strange, hideous things, and far, _far_ stronger. While they did seem related to one another, as one species, they were each different, like a race each and in of themselves."

Luis turned his head, seeing the silohuted of Felrrin not too far away, and she also gave a grim, terrible look of realization that the Seraph himself had, "Nephilim." A sense of disquiet filled Luis, the terrible fact that in lore from his own world; Nephilim were children of human women and angels interbreeding, so destructive and terrible that they were one of the many reasons God had sent the Great Deluge to purge the Earth. 'I've felt lust, but it's then diluted by the Emotional Aura… does this mean such physical yearnings are unnatural to what I am, or simply that I must overcome it to fully experience it? And would such lead to…?' The Seraph shook his head of the idea, 'Unimportant.' "How man were there?"

"Three, and that was merely the outer guard. I try not to think what else may lay in wait inside of the Keep… please," Turning his head to face Luis, "try to understand my hesitancy in going back and my confusion on why anyone, be they a wealthy fool or the gods themselves, wish to visit it."

Luis hummed lowly, "Hmm…" The angel nodded, "Objection understood, but as I said, you don't have to worry about going to the actual location."

Garuda observed Luis for a moment, before nodding, "I will hold you to it."

Luis had the sudden urge to chastise the cowardly creature, to scorn his lack of spine, urge him to avenge his dead, but he fought it so hard that the Aura flared so brilliantly that he knocked into the side of the carriage escaping the Falcon Knight's fascinated, walking ahead of the small caravan. The urge died down but the sudden flux of rage did not abate, biting his lip harshly as he tried to focus on other things. 'Lunch… what will I make? We have to find some fish… yes… fish… lemons…. Rosemary… By God I want to hit something REALY hard.' Sighing deeply, 'Would consuming a Mortal Fruit make these episodes not so severe?' Thinking a bit _too_ hard on the subject before reminding himself that he's tried NOT thinking on it for a reason, the urge to run up to the nearest chapel and confess his unseemly desire almost making him laugh. "Guess some habits die hard, even for a doubter." Feeling the approach of someone, he was surprised to see the shaggy form of Azimuth, no longer clad in merely her Ash mask, but having donned leather armor and having a short-bow on her back, a quiver of arrows on her waist. "What can I do you for, Azi?"

The Aldrikkni hissed lowly, before bowing her head, "_Must_ you call me that, your Eminence?"

"I say it in good faith! You're my niece… sort of!" Luis smiled broadly.

He couldn't tell what the Bat-Woman was thinking, nor what face she made at him, but she stared for a good several seconds in abject silence before admitting, "I-in that case, I won't mind it…" Before mumbling something in its demonic speech then saying, "But I come to ask if you're alright? I sensed a great deal of distress from you and you ran into the land-boat so hard you may have nearly knocked it over."

Feeling briefly embarrassed, Luis sighed, "I… tell me; do you and yours practice confession?"

Azimuth shrugged, "If they like… we are all sinners, big and small, it is our own responsibity to find absolution to God… but sometimes having a friend hear you out makes your way a bit clearer to walk."

Luis nodded before saying, "Do you ever think about what you're missing if you were more human?"

"On occasion, why?"

"I… yearn to be human again."

Azimuth stared at the Seraph, her sole and remaining Prince and brother to her maker. "In what way? I was told both you and my Lord were once human, but why desire for your mortality again? Now?"

Luis looked at his hand, clenched it, and while warmth was felt, he now only felt how different it was then before. "For several reasons… but one of the big ones; I… sometimes don't feel like I have a choice in what I do sometimes, that something or someone else is controlling me and my feelings in this world."

"You are an angel and now only understand that your free will is a pale shadow to what it was when compared to your human life?"

Luis blinked and looked to Azimuth, "Angels don't have freewill?"

"Not that humans have, from what I can remember, angels had been less given will as they were given purpose, and are free to act and react in what purpose they found themselves in. But, surely, you know this? You are a seraph afterall, the few closest to God and his wisdom?" Azimuth turned her head curiously.

Luis refused to answer out of sheer ignorance. He and Maxi chose their characters to compliment one another but also be a twisted reflection of who they were in real life. Maximilian was a staunch believer, but he was a demonic sorcerer that had a kind heart. Luis, a man who thinks God was no less cruel then the men that He created, if He even existed at all, was an angel, ruthless and rigid in his core. Why would he not carry the angelic character's knowledge, while he only seemed to inherit its wrath? Why isn't Maxi with him? Why isn't Bethany?

Luis gave a mix between a gasp and a gag, suddenly feeling dizzy. "I wish I knew, my friend, God only knows how much I wish it."

Azimuth grasped Luis's arm to steady him. "My Prince, I understand you feel distressed, but we must all understand our purposes in this life and try to act in them as best we can. I would not dare to give an order to you, but I would advice that you remind yourself both who and what you are, I beg thee."

Luis nodded, "Thank you, really." Taking a deep breath and thinking on the mission ahead, "Thanks for listening to me complain."

"Tis no burden." She bowed her head, "I wish to serve."

"Still, I owe you one, and I mean it." Luis smiled to Azimuth, "Don't know what I can do for you in turn, but I'll do my best."

"A favor from a Prince? Truly?"

"Just… ya know, keep it reasonable."

Azimuth stared ahead for several moments, before looking back up at the angel. "If you find how to be more human again," She looked to the side and behind them, "can you share it with me?"

Luis looked at the Aldrikkni, feeling both a mix of newfound kinship with her and worry about the possibility of this motive somehow escaping both of them and reaching unfriendly ears. Namely Felrrin, whose motives worried Luis. Would such weakness be tolerated from one of their Princes? What would happen if they decided he wasn't leadership material or even welcome back to the city? Orange filled Luis gaze once more. "I… promise." Knowing full well there was already a means of feeling human again, but it would take the life of some poor soul and a not too clean death for it to reach fruition. How much longer will he maintain silence on the subject? If Felrrin learned it from her own kind, how easy would it be for her to hear it off the grape vine? Orange filled his gaze, more intensely this time. 'That's one thing I wouldn't miss from being mortal again… I'd feel the fear in its fullest.'

[][


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Wanting for Lack of Nothing

"A red potion?" The man asked, holding the small bottle to the sun, "Never seen one of these before."

"So, I've been told." Luis nodded and smiled, "We understand the alchemical process in the area are not as advanced as ours, certain elements and qualities are lost and turns the item into a lower grade of consumable. All yours for ten silver!"

The gentleman looked squarely at Luis, "This seems fishy… we don't have that much coin to spare, but it would be nice to have our men at arms well-equipped in case of Beastmen raids…" He shook his head, "Sorry, but I will only be sticking to the weapons."

Luis nodded, "Very well, I understand. The total will be four gold then." Luis placed the potion back in its box, and gestured for the weapons to be placed in the one of the barrels, some axes, a few swords and some dozen arrows, while the other had a dozen bundles of blue-steel chainmail. All of them were of a lower tiered material, but they were still impressive compared to most of the native equipment used. "Thank you for your patronage, we will be departing in the evening, will you join us for dinner before we depart?"

The man laughed, "Will I be paying?" As he slid a pair of gold coins across the table.

"As far as I am concerned; you already have! Please, consider it a part of the deal!" Luis smiled warmly, "The raviolis shall be glorious, I promise you!"

Reynard picked up the weapon loaded barrel and began walking into town with them, "Sometimes I think we're more of a mobile eatery then a trading caravan."

"Oh… can uh _he_ not bring them in?" The village leader requested, "We don't like any of them around, they cause too much trouble."

Reynard was about to suggest he take the barrel's contents and shove them up his dungeon, but Luis smiled and quickly brought a hand up facing Reynard. "I will take them in shortly."

"Thank you." The leader bowed before departing, sharing a fierce glare down with Reynard as he did so.

The foxclan dropped the barrel, before looking back at the prince, "It's a good thing they weren't in Istannice, that kinda talk gets someone a quick trip to the crypt."

"But we're not in Istannice, these are simple peoples with simple fears." Luis hefted the barrel up, "They just don't know anything of beastmen beyond what they've suffered from them."

"Mmm might make bedding one of their women a unique challenge." He smiled deviously at the village.

"Hey, unless you're planning on wedding one of them soon after, no funny business, alright? We shouldn't encourage bad luck with the natives as we pass, they're our neighbors." Luis stared Reynard down sternly. "No premarital sex, understood?"

Reynard felt weak from the prospect, he'd already gone a fortnight already without feeling a woman, how much longer will he have to endure? The thought of it alone made him feel weak! "I… yeah, I get it." Drooping his ears and sighing mournfully.

Luis suddenly felt a bit bad about the order and thought, "Hey! Cheerup! I'm sure we can fill the hole of lust with something else! How good are you at chopping? I can always use a hand in the kitchen!"

"Is that why you don't bed anyone? Or drink? Or gamble? You pour your vices into cooking?" Drooping even further at the tedium of working in a kitchen.

Luis's vision filled with an unseen orange haze as he closed his eyes, thoughts momentarily filled with the image of Felrrin moaning beneath him, "You have no idea!" Walking to the village with their purchased wares.

Reynard sighed and waved a dismissive arm at the Prince as he walked his now depressed and wholly undersexed libido back to the carriage's steeds. "Oh, to be with the bachelors… the sad, sad bachelors…" The hogs huffed back in response. "You bastards are lucky, you get handed gilts back home. Back home, I have to run people over just to smell a woman. The one place I can now get the action, is the one place where they know me all too well." Patting a hog before throwing himself to the ground between them, and like they are so habitually used to, laid down at his flanks, with only his boots sticking out between them.

Reynard napped for a decent amount of time, by the time he woke, it was already dusk, several of the villagers had taken up on the Prince's offer of dinner, hearing them speak not too far away. While the demi-human was more than a little tempted to sleep the night away too, he felt a tug at his boot just as he began to close his eyes. "Oh fur da luv uv da Princes…" Reynard began to curse, "if ya humies don't lay off me boots, I swear I'll-"

"Oi, fox-boy!" Mira called out, "Your master said I can borrow you for a bit."

Reynard kicked out at bare air, "Like hell, and 'my master' wouldn't lend me out to a human that can't tell tits from ass on a halberd, get that batty bitch to do whatever and leave me to my nap."

"Luis said in case you wouldn't comply…" He heard the pop of a cork off a bottle. "Hmm?"

"YOU USELESS FOX!" Reynard nearly shat his pants hearing the voice of Minister Argos, "I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF AN IMPORTANT DINNER WITH THE ALPHA PACK OF HUMANS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO INTERUPT THIS IMPORTANT PRECEDING?!"

Reynard stood straight up and saw the appiration of mist erupting from a golden bottle, the cloud taking the shape of the one woman he truly and deeply feared. "Um uh um…" Reynard stuttered out, not having any lies loaded for this encounter.

"YOU WILL DO AS THE PRINCE COMMANDS! DO IT _**NOW!**_" The minister briefly transforming into a her more bestial, canine form.

"AYE!" Reynard yelled back on terrified instinct, where a smugly smiling Mira then replaced the cork on the bottle.

"We will be finding herbs for potions."

Reynard nodded, "Yes!"

"And I won't be hearing any complaining as I use your beastman senses to their fullest."

"Of course!" Almost in tears from how _wrong_ this day has become.

"Good!" Mira smacked his rear-end and pointed into the forest, "Thata way!"

Mushrooms, medicinal plants and some poisonous ones that Mira suggested would be important in combating monsters with powerful regenerative abilities, specifically trolls, all of them blurred together as Reynard turned his brain off and followed the human's orders.

Since the carriage wasn't too far off and was where Luis decided to serve supper to the village leadership and their families, the humans were well within sight of the whole thing. The Seraph smiled as they gossiped and laughed between themselves, either due to the humorous tone of the whole thing or the fact that it may have added a dollop of sympathy for the poor man, whipped into action by a harsh mistress.

"How much would you like to sell this recipe for?" One of the humans inquired, breaking Luis out of his reverie, holding a Ravioli up half eaten with a small dinner knife.

"No _king_ would be even able to afford it." Luis grinned hautily, "And if you think this is good, wait until dessert!" Standing up from his stool and yelling out to those who continued to feast, "And now! The final dish for tonight, I pray it pleases your senses before you depart for the evening…" Walking to the door of the carriage, opening it widely and expecting to see trays of cream and fruit filled pastries, instead witnessed the voluptuous, bountiful, brown breasts constrained in a strapless black corset closely hugging the woman's figure.

His vision was nearly blinding in orange flare.

"Can't have you being the only waiter here, can I?" Felrrin purred, the desserts filling the two trays she had balanced on the palms of her hands.

Luis's condition gives him enough clarity of thought to look up, seeing the Sand Elf having combed out her long hair and wearing a pair of bunny ears. The glare of orange returned, just as bright but lasted half as long, "Ehm, what are you doing?"

"Hmmm _showing_ the glories that my prince and master possesses from his City-Eversweet…" Dancing around the petrified angel, and earning the equally as lusty stares from those males present and the burning ire of the women at both the elf in question and their husbands or lovers. The lewdly dressed woman went over to ever table, placed a plate of dessert for them before leaving in a frolic of laughter that bordered on erotic.

"My Prince." Azimuth said from the carriages opening to his back, where his whole body seemed to follow the scantily clad creature, and as he turned to the Aldrikkni, Luis gave a confused look at what stood before him, not seeing the mask and leather donned scout, but instead a pale creature, face small but round with large brown eyes, a tiny nose and two massive bat ears that climbed the flanks of her head and almost hidden from the wild, unkempt brown hair on her head, clad in similar attire as the temptress that fermented many desires and future arguments between spouses, save that the corset was no where near as full of female features and in her arms she carried a single tray that had an array of mugs of ale. "I fear I might be suffering from the effects of peer pressure."

It took the seraph a moment to rationalize what he was seeing, "Felrrin is making you help her, and so that you don't scare the humans, cast somekind of humanization illusion or disguise spell on you?"

Azimuth looked barely old enough to be able to wear the clothes she had, and lifted a dainty hand up, "She is an accomplished enchanter," Showing a silver ring on her free hand, "I dread this might be a repeated event, if she didn't wish to cast a single spell for this night."

Luis gave a murderous glance at the Sand-Elf, "You will go back inside," Taking the tray off her hands, "and put on something decent."

"But your Eminence, I was promised that this shall extend the prestige of our-"

"_Now_." Baring his teeth staring back at the Aldrikkni and taking a mountain of restraint not to yell from his rage, his scarf, however, did levitate a moment above his arms and shoulders, as if threatening to show more of his true form to woman.

Azimuth's face was unmoving in its features, neither expressing displeasure nor joy at the order, instead nodding once and returning to the carriage's depths to change.

Luis rubbed his forehead with a thumb, "She made my brother's NPC dress like a sl-" Stopping himself from saying it aloud. As free as he is from the eyes and ears of the Church, some habits do indeed die hard. "Prostitute." Finishing the out-loud thought. Turning back around with his customary smile he's well practiced to showing his customers, no matter how bad a mood he was in, he went around tables and made well several dry mouths, many with full mouths with frosting or whipped cream edging their lips. And as he gained ground near Felrrin, he leant over and whispered, "You will not do something like that again, do you understand?" He spoke low and harshly as way of expressing the intensity of his anger.

Felrrin looked aback before nodding herself, "By your word, my Prince." No sign of flirt nor of humor for a moment as she knew, fully, that she had made an err that damn well nearly sent her back to Istannice, if not by Gate, then by her Prince throwing her, before she donned that delicious smile and continuing on serving and seducing the locals.

[]

"That useless, good-for-nothing…" Argos wafted the magical cloud from side to side before turning around to see both the Shiehk and the human-queen waiting in confusion. "Boys." She shrugged and chuckled awkwardly.

Shiehk had that itching desire to backtrack where the magical mist led to but she took the hint that the Prince didn't wished to be found by her, her eyelid twitching briefly as she tried refocusing on the issues. "As you can see, beastfolk are often more… um… passionate, yes, then is typical for most humans. More so present company it seems." Shiehk explained as happily as she could.

Queen Calca eyed the two wearily, "That _passion_ has led to the death of thousands of my countrymen, and slavery of many more. Knowing something is there doesn't bring me closer to finding something to cure it." Queen Calca crossed her arms. "If I can help it, we would have no issues with the beastmen of your city, but my people will not be able to truly discriminate between the two and cannot advise you joining us for supper. Many of the nobles have had their lands raided, razed or otherwise damned or damaged from beastmen hands."

"By that reasoning, none of the graeci should eat either." Argos placed her hands on her hips, "Don't tell me you've had a peachy relation with all human nations on this world."

Queen Calca scoffed, "I will not have you, please return to your ship or your quarters." Detecting the icy blues of sheer hostility with her ring. "I implore you; this isn't personal. We can't jump from horse to horse and be surprised when we eventually taste dirt, the people have been very receptive of you and yours because of how you saved many people, but that goodwill can only stretch so far, this has to be done carefully."

Argos stared at the Queen, tempted to argue further, but with a glance from Shiehk, knew such would be both futile and remarkably frowned upon by her. "As you wish." Departing from the dining hall with as much dignity as she could muster. "Human slattern is lucky I got all my yelling out on the damn fox…" As she pressed through another set of doors, came upon two human women coming her opposing way, to the dinner she assumed, both were brown haired and looked similar, but one was taller, had a bob cut and was clad from neck to toe in armor, with a sword at her hip. The other, however, had long hair, had on the black, blue and whites of the local magical-priests. The sisters stared at the beastwoman, and the beastwoman stared right back. "Uh, hello?"

The armored one slowly placed her hand on her swords grip.

Argos leered at the woman, "Don't threaten me with a good time, human, I am in an absolutely foul mood."

The priestess walked slightly ahead of the knight, and rose a hand, "I'm sorry, we weren't uh… expecting beastmen here."

Argos scoffed, "Well, _surprise_." Walking past the pair muttering lowly about the weak, intolerant natives and how dreadful her own kind must be on this world.

Remedios stared as the minister nearly stomped to bed, "We shouldn't leave her to wander the estate unguarded."

Kelart shook her head, "We'd be treating her like a prisoner, she's a foreign diplomat, not an enemy."

"She's a beastman." Remedios replied stiffly, raising a hand, "We shouldn't risk that this is somekind of trick, for all we know they've a whole lot of humans enslaved in their own city."

Kelart sighed, "You didn't read the knight's report, did you? There were humans serving alongside the angel that rescued them, in no sign of bondage or hostage, nor did they seem culled or meek."

"They're not to be trusted, end of story." The paladin rolled her jaw, "We should check the food for poison, if she can wander into the kitchen-"

Remedios rolled her eyes and groaned, "Enough of your paranoia, can we just eat already? I'm starved."

"Fine!" The paladin threw up her arms dramatically, "But if we all start dying at the table, I'm throwing you under the wagon."

Her sister grimaced, "Seems… fair."

The dinner had begun in what could be considered a moderately smothered atmosphere. Talk was abound of the she-hound that now prowled the estate, with terrible gnashing teeth and horrible claws, wearing the furs of long dead adversaries as trophies. The Queen promised such a thing was wholly inaccurate, but of course, none believed her, which she saw with the Ring, but took the time to carefully reassure them that Argos dismissed herself, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable until they were ready to accept this new variant of beastmen.

Of course, a few cursory glances told Calca much. Maybe a bit too much. How many nobles she know conspire in one manner or another, desiring change, maybe even violently, while others showed lust unknowingly, or shame at serving her, maybe even fear of the future and what it may hold. It was a useful curse that the Seraph has given her, one she may in time be unable to remove. How much more will be flayed of the minds and souls to her?

As soon as she turned her head to see Remedios, she instantly read her distaste for the greens on her plate, reminding the queen of the old days when they were all children, their families often visiting each other when her Calca's father was king. She even stuck her tongue out in the same way, and it made the Queen give an uncouthly guffaw which drew many onlookers, slapping a hand in front of a smiling mouth to quiet herself. "A-apologies."

This did actually draw the attention of the three Graeci that sat at her table. While those who were invited in were rotated out, never seeing the same faces twice, the trio of foreign, swarthy humans with thick bushy eyebrows and curly beards typically just sat, plate filled with food and did nothing. Their mind's so incredibly bare the only thing the ring could tell her was that they were bored. She couldn't tell if they were simply highly disciplined or simply... _simple_, told to attend meals in shifts to keep appearances but not willing to go any further then that. However, as Calca made eye contact with one of them, their was a flux of emotion brief but noticeable. Shortly after he broke sight with her, he looked down to the plate, reached out with a hand to pick up the silverware, a fork. Taking it up only several inches, but stopped, looking to the other, near identical graeci to his flanks, whom did not seem to be judging the man or condemning him for this sudden burst of action, but seemed intensely interested in what he'd do next. The man stuck the fork into the meat, before taking his hand off the fork, leaving the item inside the impaled food as he resumed his idle alongside his fellows. The whole interaction was astonishing to the queen, fascinated by increasingly strange people who only became more odd the more familiar she became with them, but it did bring her attention to her own meal.

The meal was fairly typical, nothing as extravagant as when the outsiders first arrived, some ham, carrots and potatoes, despite how good it smelt, she had barely touched her plate, not too unlike the human creatures she shared the table with. When was the last time she'd eaten? Or drank? Or even slept for that matter. Recently she caught up with paperwork, mostly signing the consent to repair this section of the wall or garrison more troops in some town or village, and now only recently has begun to get around to other issues. Notably, the list of the people she planned to send to Istannice with her. "Minister Shiehk…" Gesturing for the servant that held the parchment in question, all twenty of them hand selected and pruned by both herself and Remedios. "…these are the names of the people I wish to accompany me to your wonderous city."

The overly clothed woman took the note harshly from the man, while giving the queen a brief leer before looking over them. A second later, "Half."

The queen blinked, "What?"

"Choose half of those on this." The shapes above her forked and branched, filled with both disgust and uncertainty, but of what, it did not show.

Remedios put her fork down before smacking a fist on the table, "I won't have my queen go guarded by a mere skeleton crew!"

"If you take these others," Looking to the paladin, the shapes, daggerlike and severe, but most of all, brimmed with honesty, "I pick whom I wish, turn the rest into skeletons to accompany those who are left out of my city."

Remedios stood, planting both fists on the table, but before she could bring a threat to her throat, Calca rose a hand and yelled, "Stop!" Staring at her paladin and friend, "Sit!"

Remedios looked to her lady before looking back at the smugly sitting minister, then sat back down.

"We will choose them soon and gather them tomorrow morning." Queen Calca was returned the parchment, overlooking the scant chosen. Paladins. Priests. Wise men and scholars and two of the Nine Colors.

"Morning?" Shiehk questioned, "We were planning to do this a mont-"

"Well, if there's fewer in the party, then there's less to prepare for, no?" Queen Calca lifted her chin back to the woman.

The queen swore she heard her hiss before she waved a hand dismissively to the subject, "As you wish."

Smiling to herself for the victory, Calca was instantly with Remedios in concluding who was the best to bring. Of those, were the Colors of Black and Blue, with no them intending with their selection, she wished to hold at least her most intimidating of warriors, as weak as they might well be compared to their guests. Remedios huffingly took off several members of her order, until they were left to the bare bones of eleven. "This one…" Pointing at the name, "is a rookie, practically still a kid and we might not want her relation to the Night Watchman to be exploited, if this trip turns sour."

She studied the name, not having any face or recollection of it, other than it being the same as the family of the famous Platoon Sergeant that defeated Orlando, years prior in battle. "Right now…" She rapped the side of her fist lightly on the wooden table, "I think we should focus on looks rather than experience, if this goes bad, there isn't much we can do. They'll either send us back home or throw us in the sea."

"Or feed us to the demi-humans…" Remedios commented off handely.

"But, I theorize that these Istannice-folk put a lot of stock in family, that minister will rattle on and on about hers, and what conversation one of the Paladins was able to raise out of the she-dog some days ago mentioned how she was the proud creation of a 'golden bull'. Maybe having a father and daughter serving the same function will show them we carry similar traits."

Remedios was thinking about arguing, but did know the queen was most definitely smarter then her in these things and let it go, "Alright," She agreed, "but just to warn you, the poor brat took too much of the likeness of her father. If you want looks, both of them combined could boil steel plate by staring at it." Smiling to herself as she scratched off the other paladin, leaving them with Enrique Bellse and Pavel Baraja of the Nine Colors to insure that the queen is safe, the others two priests, a couple smarties and the last three are other paladins, including the Color of Black's daughter: Neia Baraja. "Still think you should bring me."

"And I still think you should eat your veggies; tonight, is fraught with disappointment." Calca smiled at her friend who simply scowled back.

[]

Luis stared ahead as dawn finally reached past far hills and lit through the trees that bordered the village. It was strange on what he was able to pick up on the senses he was able to retain; smell being the most entertaining of the few. He wasn't sure how it worked, but when light touched the dewy greens of grass, trees and bush, the smell became… crisper somehow, more floral. 'Is this breakfast to me?' He laid back on his hands as he continued to stare at the dawn, unblinking. 'A replacement for a morning routine? Instead of getting my fat ass out of bed, offer my thoughts in prayer, going to the eatery, pray harder that coffee was cheap that day and buy a bagel?' He wasn't sure how he felt _not_ being obese. He took the Rights of Celibacy back home for a reason, he wasn't much a looker before, but after he fell in love with the kitchen, he was definitely not in the pool of potential husbands. Besides, it allowed Maxi to get married and have a kid much easier, less of one family contributing to an already overbred habitat. _Now_ he could see his penis if he wanted to.

And he did, but only once. He never had to use the bathroom and had to make sure the angels of YGGDRASIL were or weren't 'lacking' in the department, and would explain why his libido wasn't even existing past those brief moments of utterly human weakness which were quickly quashed by his new nature.

"Hmph." Luis huffed, "I really have to get out of the habit of thinking back to that stuff." He didn't hate what he was now. Quite the contrary, he very much thought it was the best thing to happen to him, but he _did_ very much give his character a backstory just like the other NPCs he made. A bad one. Luis had a very poor opinion on angels from the Old Testament. But! Their stats as a paladin were one of, if not the, best and his race complimented Maxi's own transformation into a demon when he finished that particular quest, and if his NPCs, _his entire city_, is controlled or driven by this element, why isn't he? He would have likely destroyed every civilization he came across for being too corrupt, meaning that it could have the occasional pickpocket and the Seraph he wrote would have smote the entire nation. Is he being controlled right now? By how much? Is thinking about this evidence that he's not? "I need a hobby… or ten." God knows he has the time for them now. "Maybe after, I'll see if coffee somehow exists on this world and cultivate it." Coffee, drink of the devil but blessed by the Church. 'Kindred, this beverage and I- WHY DO I KEEP THINKING WITH THESE OLD TIMEY WORDS? I'M NOT A GRANDPA!' He grasped his own head in exasperated thought.

The Seraph removed himself from his observation, prepared the caravan breakfast, crepes specifically, having bought some fresh milk from a villager and Reynard's foraging with Mira having bour fruit, literally, he gained that rush of success from the happy faces and hums his compatriots made, and as they reveled, he distracted himself from his ever growing envy by taking a look at the map for their next destination, laying it out on the wheel tables and thinking it over, "So we're here…" Nearly fourty kilometers out of Hoburns, proceeding east by south east, "The next town here is maybe a day or two…" Before looking up from the table and seeing the approaching Garuda, "Knight." Luis acknowledged his presence before looking back to the map and pointing to the town, "What's this place called?"

"Jocinero." Garuda stabbed his massive falchion into the ground, only now seeing the sheath discarded some distance away.

"Anything you can tell me about it?"

"Ale's good." Resting both his hands on the pommel, "Gets the occasional issue with trolls and demi-humans, good place for making coin." He shrugged, "Also a witch in the area practicing black magic. Says she protects the town but I dunno…"

"Anyone needing supplies, armor, weapons?"

"You just described most of the kingdom." Garuda scoffed, "But they might be able to afford a bit of what you have."

Luis nodded, "Good. We head out in an hour, are the others ready?" Looking back up at the falcon-knight, at one moment resting, instantly the next took the sword at out the ground and was swinging it down at him!

'What?!' Luis was able to easily dodge the attack by quickly jumping back, standing on another wheel table as the knight's sword plunged into the one he just stood at, the blade sticking firmly into the furniture. "Hey!" Luis was mixed between beating the HOLY HELL OUT OF THE PRICK and pretending to be a weak albeit wealthy merchant. "I'm taking that out of your wages!"

The knight took the sword with with practiced ease, "You already paid me!" Glowing a brief red before attacking again, swinging his sword far faster then before, but as he swung down, Luis gave a dealthy look at the man before extending his right hand out and pointing out his index and middle finger in a faux peace sign. The blade collided with the tender flesh between the fingers, enough so that it sent a gust of wind out behind him.

Garuda gawked, his beak clanging against the inside of his helm. 'I was just doing this to say that there were lots of stronger monsters where he's going… I thought this grey shrimp would be…'

Luis's eyes narrowed as he hopped off the table, "I do not…" Walking towards the knight, pinching the edge of the blade between the two fingers so tightly that the sword began to slowly but steadily warp near the tip, with Garuda failing to pull back his own weapon! "Like…" The scarf on his shoulders began to float being affixed above his limbs almost like wings, his eyes glowing a terrible and luminous yellow. "dissent in my kitchen."

Garuda paused. "Eh?"

As the others of the party tried to find the source of the commotion, where they saw the two are they were, but the now smiling Luis looking at his fellows, "Ah! Good morning, had a pleasant meal?"

"What was that?" Mira demanded, "I felt a terrible presence in the area! The killing intent was so potent I don't doubt even the villagers had bore it!"

The three citizens of Istannice looked to the situation, and gave stoic, unemotional expressions to their Prince as Azimuth, now normal once more, began to remove her dagger, Reynard cracked his knuckles and Felrrin held a tiny globe of poisonous gas, with Azimuth being the closest to Mira and focused on her steadily, just waiting for the word to end her life.

"Garuda!" Hare yelled out and approached both the Seraph and Falcon-Knight, having run past the tense Istanni and looked closer to the area, "What happened?"

"He damaged my property!" Luis said, still smiling as he closed his eyes but carried a deep menace as he gave the smallest shake of the head to the trio of his subjects, whom immediately relaxed. Luis then quickly waltzed up to the knight, still in shock over the show of power, and retrieved Garuda's coin purse right off his belt, opened it, and took out two gold coins. "I think this should cover it. Felrrin, how long would it take to repair the wheel?"

The sand-elf gave a quick look to said object and replied, "Maybe a half hour?"

"Excellent! Would you like any help?"

"No, but thank you." Felrrin smiled, ran a hand up his arm before taking out several components to mend the wheel.

Luis's gaze flashed yellow, but this time it was different, he was not only resisting his growing rage but also having his lust suppressed. "Garuda… a word?"

Luis didn't check to make sure the man was following him, instead, stiffly walking into the forest out of sight of both Hare and Mira. When they were at least a mile deep, Luis looked back and saw the man not too far but not too close behind him.

Then the Seraph scanned for a tree, trying to find if any had any kind of life living on them, birds, squirrels, anything at all. Finding one he was satisfied with, Luis groaned in fury, punching a fist straight through it, the wood shattering into toothpicks, and before the foliage began to even fall, his fingers dug through the bark, and he threw it straight up into the air. So far in fact, neither he nor Garuda were able to see it.

Luis looked back, the once terrified Garuda was now replaced by a petrified one, taking tiny steps back from the display, hands up defensively, the man was a hair's bredth away from screaming his lungs out and running as far and as fast as he could.

"Now…" Luis stated, "what you did was a terrible mistake. You won't do it again, will you?" Smiling eerily as he walked towards Garuda.

The beak went side to side so fast and so many times it was a mere blur to the seraph.

"I need your intelligence of the area, that's what I hired you for… you're my guide, not my knight, not my protector, not even a warrior, you're a weak little human that knows just that," Pinching his fingers together, "_much more_ then what my intelligence network has shown me. I can find others, and I _will if you, the mage or you 'son'_ walk a toe out of line in the slightest. Am I clear?" Before pointing his finger onto the man, the digit only just touching his left shoulder, making a visible dent as if it was grazed by a mace or hammer.

The blurry beak stopped, "I just wa-"

"Good! Now, while the carriage is being fixed, we'll see the village smith to see to your blade, I'm sure what you're paying him will be incentive enough to finish it on time, yes?" Holding the gold coins between his fingers as he walked back to the clearing, and the tree he threw landed in nearly the exact same spot as before, scattering the wildlife with its crash.

Garuda was screaming inside his own mind the entire time from between when this… _thing_ caught the blade and up till they found the smith to repair his sword. He didn't think birdclan could sweat, Garuda found that it was entirely possible.

'God, why do I still want to kill something?' He verbally punished the fool, intimidated him into compliance, but he felt _bloodlust_. He could yearn to rip the life out of someone? How is that _holy_? Luis bit his lip harshly, frustratingly. He had no true way of dealing with these moments, which only seemed to be happening in greater frequency and intensity. 'I take it back! This is the worst thing ever! How long can I take this before going insane?! Do all angels feel this?!' He had to be alone. _Now_. Vehuel took Garuda's arm, shoved the coins into his armored palm and ordered a strained, "Fix it!"

Before quickly dashing as deep into the forest as he could and declaring, "「All Flesh Is Grass」!" Returning back to his angelic form actually relaxed him greatly, almost as if the greater mass allowed more of his souls to be cooled by the air, but the desire to simply fight and kill was less of a crawling evisceration on his mind and more like a startling burn, a sensation one gets when a hand is put on a hot surface, but it is the more terrible from his inability to move his hands away from the stove, beating his mighty wings and beginning to hover just above the ground.

"Why did you do this to me?" Vehuel asked quietly, the forest startingly silent as if hearing his words patiently. "You take me from my life, my family, give me a new one, at first filled with wonder and joy, but strip me of what I love and give me a desire to harm my others such as I have never felt. Why, oh God, did you condemn me?" Pointing straight up to the sky, "Because I doubted you even existed? I lived and breathed in a world that exclaimed the staggering might of mankind's mind being that of God's Will and when such might was needed, it was found wanting! I doubt you, no, I _hate you_ because those days, those moments where we needed God, we needed salvation, I felt and knew death! Death! Death of all our futures! Now, you give me the demented urge to give such death to others for slights and tragedies I _know I can avenge without malice, dread nor arms_! _Damn you! Damn you, you goddamn bastard! _If I were you and you I; you having known nothing but jealousy and petty hate for what you have made, I would strip such feelings from you and give you the desire to mend! Heal! To understand! Because you would see such benevolence as a curse upon all that you have aspire! I would make you a Hell where you are forced to be a saint!"

Vehuel found himself panting after his outburst, suddenly exhausted but also relieved. The itch… gone? No, simply not as inflamed. It was unmistakably there, merely diminished and banished from the thrones of his mind. 'What if my condition was activated and constant?' He considered, 'That I can somehow be slighted from something that may not exist? Be slighted by an idea alone?' He sighed, "Would explain why I couldn't control myself the first time with the beastmen on the beach." But how long would it last? He'd undoubtedly encounter others of unsavory professions, but nevertheless wouldn't deserve a stabbing if he could help it. He pondered if other NPCs had feelings like his? Or maybe this effect is all they know, they wouldn't know any urge besides what they recognize as themselves? Vehuel nodded, deciding to to see for himself. "Vanniel," Standing straighter, trying to ready himself for whatever may come from this encounter, "I call upon thee."

Vehuel nodded, "No turning back now." Releasing a breath, he didn't know he was holding.

He rubbed his palms together after several seconds of nothing happening.

"Okay… that's weird." Vehuel lifted his palm up to the air and summoned his Guild's NPC list, "Says here you're alive and well…" But as he rubbed his chin, he swore he saw the menu glitch. No, specifically her name, as the glitch, a momentary phase of red echoed over the name, pixels flaring out, her name disappearing from the roster entirely before in a not even an eyeblink, she once again appeared, same place she was before.

He narrowed his gaze to it, fully feeling worry and very much shocked his aura didn't flare up. 'At least I can care.' "Rulthiel, I call upon thee." The blue angel instantly shot down from like a pillar from the sky to the front of the seraph.

The Archangel of Knowledge laced his fingers together and bowed lightly at the waist, "What is thy will, my Prince?"

"Um," Vehuel nodded, "Ehm," He 'coughed' into his fist, "I don't want to be rude, but I summoned you to find out where Vanniel is."

Rulthiel bowed his head again, "Nothiel seeks the same, she has remained a missing in action for a day or so."

The glare of orange washed over Vehuel, and the facsimile of feeling that had washed over to him was foreign to both the angel and the human mind, that rush of bizarre and utterly primal protectiveness of those who trusted him, and he briefly regretted leaving the city for this expedition, while born to seek information, Vehuel knew he pursued it out of pure eccentricity. Last he saw, Vanniel was with the human man and child, only remembering briefly as she escorted them along with the other refugees out of the ship.

"I may have an idea." Vehuel nodded, "If she is not in the Holy Kingdom capital, we will search where I saw her last, message Felrrin that I will find her and the carriage on its way to the next town and they should head that way as soon as that little sh-" He refrained from cursing, turning his head away from Rulthiel for a second until he said, "the knight gets back."

"Shall I also Gate us as well?" Rulthiel asked after he was done casting Message.

"Please." He nodded back.

Waving open the giant white door of a Gate, bowed slightly.

They instantly were hovering over the waters near the dock of Rimun. It drew more than a few eyes of those workers and fishers whom were going about their business.

"Hey! It's one of 'em angels that was here when they dropped those people off!" A man yelled out as he stood up and nearly dropped his fishing pole in the water.

Vehuel smiled, looking to the angel at his flank. "Let's not disturb them too much." Floating to solid ground and hovering over to a human dock worker. Both angels were giants compared to the humans, and more so as they flew over place, and all elements of their physique were equally large, so when Vehuel pulled a silver coin out of his palm between his fingers and presented it down for him to grab, it took a turn or two to see the coin's glint. "Bring forth one who can recall faces very well…" Holding up his other hand, having four more silver coins in between his massive fingers, "you and he will be well rewarded."

[]

**Gunna have to cut this one off here, work is getting bad and I haven't been able to focus on these projects in particular and would rather give ya something rather then nothing, and I am sorry it is so minuscule.**

**Hopefully this whole disease thing will heal over quick-like, it became far worse then even professional cynics could have predicated.**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Two to Land, One at Sea

The moment Neia walked out of the Gate, her mouth hung slightly agape at what met her eyes. Vast, towering citadels of brass, gold and silver, the architecture bizarre, alien and wholly beautiful to the eye, reminding her only vaguely of mushrooms, save these were constructed out of metal and were tipped to a point, the top of it holding one longer, thin spike or ornament. Carpets flew from one top to another, alongside steeds of winged beasts of all feathers, and angels were seen in the distance, their armor glinting in the sun. They were not even in the city proper yet, just one of its many docks, their vast vessels waiting anchored nearby where the party emerged.

As her eyes wandered the environs, her gaze eventually met her father's. The blonde bowman, while undoubtedly had eyes like her own, Neia was at least thankful she did get his 'tree branch' nose, that stuck out both literally and figuratively from his face. He gave a small smile, turning slightly towards her. "You've grown some?" Running a hand down his short, carefully slicked black hair.

"A bit." She did not repay the smile along with the answer, feeling a bit uncomfortable having her father and her own duties being so thoroughly mixed together. "It's mostly physical training."

"O-oh." Dark eyes darted downwards, "Sorry, I'm happy to see you again and I uh well um…" Pavel looked from side to side, trying to find words to his feelings. "Your mother is well?"

The scowl shared between the two deepened on the daughter, hoping that he would be able to verbally convey what she also felt but recognized the pivot in conversation clearly. "Yes."

"Good." Pavel nodded. "New sword? Was it given to you by one of the older paladins?" Gesturing to the steel longsword at her hip, the golden guard worn, notched but did not seem to be faulty.

"Papa." Neia sighed, "It's alright, we're not in the best place to start talking." Forcing a smile and nodding towards queen Calca. "We have a job to do and will find time for it later."

Pavel's heavy eyes softened greatly, relieved from her words, "Good, good." Placing a hand over the longbow at his back, its once silvery material having been purposely dirtied and darkened to minimize detection at night but did have a faint, magical shimmer that crawled its surface along with the man's digits. "If anything comes to worst, I…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Neia nodded as she strode next to one of Nine Colours, "Where do you need a squire of the Holy Kingdom's Paladins?" Hand resting on her sword guard, standing a bit straighter as their Queen seemed to finish her conversation with the Istannice Minister, several soldiers, humans with swarthy skin, dark hair, long spears and massive shields coming in two culumns, flanking an elf between them. The man had silver adorning every vestige of his visage, and gems bejeweled his thick, elaborate orange silks, and while the warriors at his side were indeed impressive, something about how the elf stride towards them radiated an… unbeknownst power.

The newcomer did not do the courtesy of bowing towards Calca, both Neja and Pavel noticed as they exchanged greetings, but were uncertain why such courtesy was ignored to such a lofty guest as their queen. As they exchanged further words, Calca looked on her father and saw his eyes dart between the two attentively. "You can hear them?"

"No." Pavel denied quickly, "but I can read lips decently enough."

"What are they saying?"

After a pause, "That they're glad to meet, other typical greetings, she's amazed at the city and can't wait to see the rest and the elf says he's worried about the terrifying looking archer staring at hi-" Only then did Pavel stop and quickly look away, bashfully. The elf could not have even been able to see him out of his periphery, and now the Holy Queen stared back abashed at the archer, where Neia kept her composure only modestly as she lightly smiled at her father's embarrassment.

The glittering elf approached with his broad, smug grin and gestured to the archer, "I know of you, 'Mad-Eyed Archer' and I apologize for putting you on the spot. May I know your name?"

"Pavel Baraja." He replied quickly, trying to ascertain if maybe there was a spotter nearby that sent the elf a Message spell of what the city's guests were doing. However, as the minster's gaze dropped down to his daughter, on pure, unadulterated instinct, placed a hand on Neia shoulder and walked towards the elf, protectively put himself between them. "My daughter, Neia."

"I am Melkoth, Minister of Whispers. Welcome." The minster's silver charms jingled as he bowed his head, "As the greatest warrior in this entourage, you will be held responsibility for its activities. We ask that you do not stray over much, and if any deigns to challenge you to a duel, do _not_ under any circumstances answer it."

'Duel?' Pavel pondered, 'Why would…' But as he looked to the side of the elf, the archer swore he spotted just off of Melkoth, a faint shimmer that was two heads taller then either of them, and as he locked closer with the shape, saw the curving crescents of a pair of horns at its top.

"You are guests here, if there are any uh invitations, please try to retreat to the quarters we will provide you and yours."

"The queen is to stay with us?" Pavel inquired. Distracted long enough that when he looked back, the shimmering shape was gone.

"Nay, we have arranged a room for her and a guard of her choice in the palace."

Pavel could sense the presence of Enrique the Blue not too far away, disguised as a common mariner that is acting as the party's mule. Hopefully, the man will be able to form a plan around all this, who to guard the queen and an escape measure if necessary. "I understand." Looking to his monarch, "My queen?"

Calca nodded and smiled back, "Please minster, we will follow you closely."

"Good. Ask me as many questions as you would like, if you see anything of note, we will stop and allow you to observe." The sand-elf waved a hand at one of the graeci warriors, and the rest fell into formation both quickly and with a degree of efficiency that seemed quite disturbing to those of the Holy Kingdom, some doubted they were even human from their formative perfection, being more like the Ushabti that had come to their own palace some time ago. The party followed the entourage, which instead of meeting smaller streets, and tiny alleys, stinking and filled with filth, the streets were wide and open to the sky, the smells of spices, incense and the salty sea filled the air, and even as the buildings became larger and more impressive, this feeling of openness did not decline, merely obstructing the sight of the sky.

"How long has the city stood?" The queen asked aloud, breaking the suffocating silence that permeated the walk thus far.

"It was founded by First-Prince Ozzydamandius several centuries prior, with two other Princes: Golden Pharaoh, Lord Razim and Nasazel, Lord of Sorcery. Before long he recruited several other powerful individuals and brought to reality this most magnificent city that you stand in now."

"Were there other cities like this?"

"Many races that called a branch of the World-Tree their home had vast urbanized dwellings yes, but only few can be even categorized in the same league as Istannice and many of those, well, the word 'city' must be a bit of loose term with them, as many were very advanced keeps, castles and deeply layered dungeons, built by their own varying denizens."

"Were any on equal grounds with Istan-?"

"Absolutely none!" Calca would be worried that she somehow insulted Melkoth with the question, save that the same grin he carried yet shown a widening that hinted at genuine humor. "Many were foul things. Filled to the brim with monsters, abominations and their debased masters." Melkoth continued.

While Calca received the message clearly, it rose a dozen more questions in its place. 'There were more places like this? People who were as strong as them? Why didn't any of them come with Istannice and why did Istannice come now…?' And as she followed the elf, her chest shot with terrible possibility, a dull dreadfulness that spread from her heart, to her limbs and only stopped at her neck as she considered the possibility; 'What if some of those people were already here? All along?' The various gods, demons, great heroes and villains all throughout history suddenly became possibilities, how many of them were of this World and how many were outsiders, cast out from some strange place where this varien of strength and skill was commonplace?

Almost sensing this existential dilemma, Melkoth turned to the queen. "My dear, are you alright?"

The colors of Black and Blue approached their queen cautiously, "Yes, yes, sorry I was just lost in thought." She lightly rubbed her brow, trying to push the subject back out of her mind.

Melkoth nodded, "If you're willing to start off with the more banal, I know of a place nearby that will host us refreshments."

Neia looked to Pavel, who in turn looked closely at their queen, the latter most of which bit her lip slightly and nodded, "A drink would be exquisite, thank you."

Melkoth pointed to one of the graeci before pointing down one of the roads, the rest quickly forming up a line and heading in the direction the sand-elf made. The royal Roble entourage followed, keeping a steady eye on their monarch, uncertainty of the strange humor that suddenly befell her; the distant gaze that now longer saw the wonders of Istannice, the hollow steps that seemed to lack conscious effort, and the way she squeezed and unclenched her hands, held together as if in a kind of supplication.

Before too long, they met the doors of a stouter building amidst the various giants that grew only larger closer to the center of the city, this one's architecture clashing against its neighbors, being made from ashen, crude stone held together with nearly tar like mortar, its flat roof hosting a number of large, colourful umbrellas, and past its doorless entrance lay tables of rock, circled and seemingly carved from the bed of the island itself, and wooden chairs of relatively simple design, lit by a number of openings all throughout the top near the entrance, and at the back, lay a bar, seemingly made from the similar methods of its counters, and standing behind it was a dough eyed beastman of somkind, her face was young, but was almost shiny, with pale skin, inky black eyes and tar like near shoulder length hair, but a number of gills were seen ridging the sides of her neck, needle like teeth poked from her lips, large, eggplant colour fin like ears flanked her head and lastly there was a bizarre protrubance in the middle of her head, a fleshy horn that dangled limply just above her eyes, the end, bulb like and almost seemed to glow. She was adorned in revealing clothing, a scant green fabric top that only just covered her heavy breasts, held together with course string around her sides, leaving her midriff for all to see. In her hands she delicately cleaned a wine glass with white cloth, pausing in the midst of the action as she looked between Melkoth and the fresh party of humans.

The sand-elf smiled warmly at the bamboozled fish-lady, "A round of your finest for all here!" Turning to the humans and extending an arm, "Please, make yourself comfortable."

"These here outsiders?" The bartender asked with a slight lisp as she took out glasses to fill.

"Indeed." Melkoth nodded, carefully observing the anglerlass as she pulled out a golden pitcher from beneath the bar, pouring the chilled, rosy liquid into the cups, the glasses frosting quickly, water vaporing wafting from them. "Young miss… Neia was it? Can you help in the distribution of refreshments?"

Neia resisted looking to her father for support, instead nodding and quickly pacing up to the bar, holding a glass in each hand, and giving the first to her queen, then her father, and distributing the rest with Melkoth, before she kept one for herself and sat back down at the table.

Melkoth remained standing as he presented his own glass to the queen, "To honoured guests!" Knowing very well that these people were paranoid about what they were consuming, drank deeply from his beverage and gave a satisfied sigh.

The rest of the party sipped, tasted, then exclaimed in sheer joy and relief from it. "By the gods, what is this?" The disguised Blue inquired before quickly drinking the rest in his cup.

"Remarkable! It's so fruity, sweet but not too sweet, and keeps my chest cold even after it met my stomach." The queen described.

Neia couldn't put her finger on it, but her eyes widened at its magnificence, looking to her father, saw he had a similar expression and they exchanged wordless dialogue between them that concluded with them both, nearly simultaneously, gulping down what was in their glasses and smiling.

Melkoth smiled warmly, "I must now warn you all of what you have partaken: poison!"

The smiles quickly vanished, but Queen Calca could sense the mischievous lie in his words, "And a cure! You shall forever compare the Chillberry Waters with all other beverages, to crave it forever, but know whenever it is had; it shall rejuvenate you like nothing else."

"Sand-elves, so dramatic." The anglerlass commented dully as she continued cleaning the glasses.

Calca grinned, glad that this momentary distraction was able to put her mind more or less at ease. "Thank you, minister." She bowed her head slightly and stood up, "We shouldn't keep this appointment waiting at my expense, please."

"Oi!" The fish-lady yelled out, "I gotta report to my mayor about this one, who's them named?"

Melkoth's smile had an edge of malevolence to it as he turned to her, "A guest of Seraph Vehuel, I'm sure your mayor will get a wonderful exchange from the Minister of Conflict, particularly if this this isn't known to her." He closed his eyes, "I may have to visit again shortly after you send Hajin your message, your establishment could use some… improvements."

"Um…" The bartender looked from side to side, her skin looking clammy. "I uh… it was an honour to serve guests of the Prince."

"Your graciousness will meet his ears, I promise you." Melkoth opened his eyes, looking to the humans, "Shall we continue?"

The graeci outside of the tavern reformed the moment one of them stepped outside, and as they began to regain ground to the palace, Neia realized something she should have noticed from the first moment, "Um, where are the people?"

Melkoth glimpsed back at her and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "I had the wards from the dock to the palace isolate themselves in whatever building they so desire to minimize risk to your persons."

The shapes above him hinted that stated it was merely half a truth, but the Queen could not tell what the rest might have been. "Why clear the place out if you assigned us guards?"

"Please good queen, it is for our best interest." Melkoth insisted, doing his best not to give more information than is necessary.

"My interest was to see this city, a city without people is a ghost town."

The ring showed Calca he was conflicted, but also impressed at her persistance, fully knowing that she supsected something more to the people being hidden. "I understand, if you desire people, I will lift the curfew but only after we arrive at the palace."

Feeling that's the best she'll be able to get, she nodded and smiled.

Pavel could have sworn he saw the tall, horned shape briefly flicker at Melkoth's side, and as he slowly reached for the bow at his back, lost track of its thin outline as quickly. The more he thought he saw it, the more he thought this whole thing was a bad idea, a cold sweat forming at the prospect that these people consorted with demons. 'And whatever else they might have brought with them from their world.'

[]

"Um, mister uh…?" The elderly, bearded man looked between the golden-orange and gold-blue angel, uncertainly.

"Vehuel, please."

"Yes, um, we had a… ship leave with a woman that matches a similar description to what you describe. They left near a month ago now, they were charted for the ports of Re-Estize, but the ship has a bit of a… reputation for smuggling with those creatures further north, non-humans."

Vehuel felt his brows scrunch in worry and thought, "Beastmen? Like those that neighbor this kingdom?"

"No, mermaids, lizard and frog men, and from what I 'member about the stories, they were led by a this old, really big dragon, but I honestly doubt that last one."

"Rulthiel, can you track down the ship, or one her crew?" The big angel turned to the slightly smaller, robed one.

"Yes, I but will require a name. What happens if the same thing effecting my sister denies us finding the ship?"

Vehuel beat his wings so strong that the water near the dock momentarily left the shore before crashing back, soaking the nearby humans. "_**We assemble the Great Host and tear this world apart until we find her**__!_" He seethed, armor glowing hot.

His fury distracted him a moment from those who he sought help from, now cowering in terror at his declaration. Orange filled his vision, diluting the worry he had, resigning himself from whatever impression they may have drawn from this exchange. "Thank you." Leaning down, dropping a large handful of gold and silver in front of those in charge, uncaring of who picks it up. "Tell the vessel's name."

"_S-Sleeping Siren_, ser." The man in charge repilied quickly.

"To Istannice." Vehuel commanded Rulthiel, whom quickly opened a Gate to the palace.

The moment they had left the Gate, the saw Melkoth welcoming them into the the vast golden hold. Melkoth looked momentarily beliggered, a visible drop of sweat that punctuated his stuttering, well rehearsed speech as he looked upon the pair of angels. Quickly dismissing himself from the humans, he approached the Seraph, but before he was in speaking distance, Vehuel commanded Rulthiel, "Get your brother, and the Seventh Legion prepared for any command."

"My lord, this is most unexpected, what brings-"

"Emergency, get the Minister of Matters home now and I don't care how." Looking to the humans, "Get someone else to attend them, we will need all ministers here immediately." He floated out of the palace, flying up to the highest point of the city's central tower, there, lay the Rallying Flame. It's only a notable buff to Istannice aligned forces, but its across the realm the city inhabits. Hopefully, it'll work for Vanniel, if she is still on the plane. "'The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair'!"

The tower burst up into a mighty flame, lancing the sky with its might, parting all clouds nearby until nothing but blue sky remained. When Vehuel looked down, he felt… mighty. Powerful. Unlike anything he experienced before, even as he slew enemies by the dozen. No, with the Lighthouse and his position in the heavens above the place beneath him, did he realize; 'This is _my_ city.' Its denizens, powerful, skilled. He could make this world bleed and plead and cry out in such woe if he so desired with the strength he could bring to bear. And in a second after that booming feeling of elation, worry filled him, 'But what could challenge one of our strongest in this world of weaklings?'

"A Player…" He answered his own question. The reason for this apparent abduction, Vehuel could not guess, but he knew for certain whoever had committed this heresy, will pay _dearly_ for it.

'Burn their lands, kill its people, set the cities to salt, and at it all, all those nearby will wonder as to the reason for event that'd make the extinction of the dinosaurs seem poultry, what could have offended a creature so? The one thing that I know, _I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW_,' He almost prayed, "Always protect your family." He said, uncertain if Luis began and Vehuel ended it, or maybe it was the other way around. Chef, fat-bastard, brother, murderer, Prince, Seraph, he didn't care if God himself stood between him and Vanniel, he'd throw all of Istannice like a mighty fist into whatever dare defile the safety of his kin.

Seconds passed, then the three towers around the lighthouse burst forth, the denizens of the aeries in full flight as they encompassed their Prince and master in a halo, bowing their heads towards them in deference, but Vehuel couldn't acknowledge such a sign, his mind to focused to know them, and it wasn't Rulthiel and Nothiel approached him did Vehuel's seething cease. "Shiehk desires words with you."

'And she will have them.' He fully intended to tell the woman what the plan was, and while a flicker of manners suggested he thank his sons, Vehuel mutely floated back down to the palace.

The sand-elf stood, hands on her hips defiantly as she saw the angel approach, "What in the name of Princes has gotten you so riled up? Even when being brought to a strange world, you wouldn't turn on the fortress." Vehuel landed and began to stride over to the woman. "And to make matters worse, I was in the middle of some very important intelligence gathering, those beastmen are possibly gathering to attack, and the south half of the Robles plan rebellion, and to make matters worse yo-!"

Vehuel summoned Gungnir into his hand and slammed the end of it so harshly into the ground before Shiehk, the entire _island_ felt like it shook. Shiehk looked up at Vehuel in a new light, and never before had she felt like she had to _look up_ at the man until now, and see how tall he was.

"Minister." He spoke out in a bark.

"My Prince?" She bowed her head.

"Take Gungnir once more, I leave soon. Vanniel might be in trouble. Deep trouble." Looking up at the Angelic Legion, before looking back down, "If I fall, you take all the forces you can and try to leave this plane, Rulthiel has some knowledge of the cosmos, but it may take time, you might be attacked. I take the Archangels with me, the Seventh is at your command, none will be finding you wanting."

Shiehk knew she couldn't question this. Terror dropped her mind into an ocean of uncertainty, something like him was going to a place where he might die. Die in such a way that resurrection is not an option, no matter the resources at hand. She couldn't speak, simply reaching out, and bowing at the waist, the Seraph flying quickly up to his sons.

"Do you have a location on the vessel?" Vehuel demanded.

"Yes, your Eminence." Rulthiel replied, "It is… strange, blinking in and out of accessibility to my sight, but I'm quite confident I can time it correctly."

"And if we become trapped like our sibling?" Nothiel inquired, bring voice to an option that might well be a possibility.

"We won't." Vehuel replied confidentially. Lifting up his arm, they could see a thin line being drawn between their lord and the tip of the burning flame of Istannice, 'A golden fleece?' Rulthiel pondered for a moment, 'Inseverable, but would tying one to the end of a city act as an anchor, a connection? Would it survive the teleportation at all?'

Beginning the spell, waving his hands between the three of them, Rulthiel, made a pair of other projections that cast armour and strength buffs on the two warriors and as the projections faded, the spell finished, and a brilliant white light claimed the three of them.

[]

A second later, darkness gave birth to dim, dank light, wet and soaked earth crunched beneath them as fish, long desiccated from the painful death of asphyxiation, crushed underfoot. They looked up at what they could see, the light emanated from Vanniel, whom, had taken her Apocalypse form, a vast, legless creature, of searing holy light, terrible wings that stretched as long as a small ship, and massive arms of near mirroring proportions, all the while, glowing a dim yellow, measuring-scales dangled from chains upon her tabard, and upon every corner of her armour, there was a mouth, under normal circumstances they were used to make spells, specifically to buff allies or debuff enemies, but now they were strained silent, teeth gritting against the struggle. Under her palms, she made a shield that held the ceiling of the cavern… no… this was no cavern.

As Vehuel snapped his gaze near her, the wooden, human ship loomed, beached at the bottom of the ocean itself. And above, the waters were being held at bay for _weeks_ by the Archangel of Compassion. And not just water… A flicker of many red eyes, amidst a mass as large as Vanniel is now met his eye before just as quickly vanishing like smoke. Then. It appeared lower, more to eyelevel in the bubble Vanniel formed to the recent arrivals. Vehuel contemplated his own positioning on the celestial hierarchy, thinking that few other beings could match him, but a glimmer of something heavy and… thick shrouded the notion like tar to a lit candle as he looked on its many eyes.

"She is wounded!" Rulthiel flew up to his sister's side, quickly muttering his incantations, a low glow surrounding the Archangel, where her once bending back began to straighten.

"Thank you… by the Princes, forgive my transgressions!" Vanniel's massive voice boomed. "I… do not know if the crew still live."

Vehuel gave a wordless command to Nothiel, who flew to the creaking vessel in all haste.

The Seraph flew up to Vanniel, who's head looked to the side a moment in shame. Risking a glance towards him, Vehuel broke out, "_HOW IN THE BLOODY HELL?!_"

"M-My Prince?"

"You don't call, don't write, next thing I know, I find a massive monster above you, and unable to teleport in without getting your brothers… what the blazes happened to get you like this? By GOD, is this what being a parent is like?" He placed his thumb and finger over his brow, "Are you alright? What happened?" He finished, slightly ashamed of himself for the outburst.

"Father, I… never left the human's side since the beastmen were killed. I asked you if I could look over them… I never really asked how long I could, and, when a week passed without word or summons, just stayed with them. Then Evan asked if I wanted to go to sea with him, then when we got close to land, we saw this floating city, and this massive dragon sent us here."

"This place borders the New World and some… darker place…" Rulthiel commented. "It is less that we are standing on the bottom of the ocean, this place is the very top of a watery, terrible world… I can feel my divine abilities beginning to become taxed from this reality… we should leave."

"The crew remains!" Nothiel sent out.

Vanniel sighed in relief before quickly gasping as Vehuel stated, "Leave them."

Nothiel nodded, flying up from the wreck, as Vanniel looked at her father as incredulously as her limited features could express, "No! We have to save them."

Vehuel lifted his wrist, the fleece still loosely dragging to some small plane spanning wound, "We came here to rescue you, there is a reason I did not have your brother teleport the entire standing set of legions here. The fewer to teleport en masse, the less issues, time and mana used. With you in your form as is, we may have difficulty slipping back out, and we cannot have you turn back into a different form without someone else taking your place, plus, I'm going to go on a limb here and believe what you're shielding us from isn't just your regular run of the twenty-thousand leagues of crushing liquid?"

Vanniel looked to him, but turn away and gave a short nod.

"So… you were banished by a dragon to a… Hell? Let's not split hairs here, this looks like a Hell. Where it knew that the natural effects of the place would have an eroding effect that would defeat you through sheer attrition of just being here. Yeah. We need to get you out of here, because those humans might be the first of many more to suffer from this new enemy, and we can't risk being wrong."

"Just tell me you're doing it to punish me!" Vanniel demanded, enraged, sour and with a hint of desperation. "I could hold this barrier up forever if it meant giving my brother a chance to save them too!"

Vehuel paused for a moment, until, "You've let your compassion drive you too far from your family, you may not like my decision, but please, trust it. I…" He clenched and unclenched his fists, "I cannot think of what might have happened if you were hurt in such a way you could not recover from." He thought again, "Are there any children on the ship? Women?"

Vanniel couldn't bear to speak up any more, only shaking her head and looking away from Vehuel.

"Tell me, if there is one or two that you must bring ba- wait…" A thought occurred to him, before he descended into to the ship.

"Father? What are doing?!" Vanniel demanded in a panic, the fear and uncertainty effecting her deeply, her armor lessening to a silver luster, the protective field she formed began to buckle and an opening at the top, the size of a fist, sprung a leak for the impossible black water to leak inside.

Vehuel was either ignorant or ignored Vanniel's statement as he descended into the wooden carcass of the human ship. He saw Nothiel on his way in, and while the huddling den of humans seemed unknown to him, malnourished, starved and desperate, among the skinny mass, he saw one visage amongst them that made something in his chest skip a beat, and was overcome with such a rage that his mind halted and his body stopped.

"_**You**_…" Vehuel managed to state, as he looked upon the human from before. Gaunt as he was, the Seraph couldn't forget that murderous intensity from when he poured the burning liquid on him in that ghastly castle.

Evan looked up, bleary and worn, only pausing a moment as he looked at the angel and gave a small, sad chuckle. "You're not real." Laying his head back against the hull. "It'd be too funny if fate decided for you to rescue me twice."

Vehuel's armor warmed, glowing in hatred as he stomped past the human refuse before reaching down and grasping the man by his filthy clothes collar. His face briefly danced with lucidity, contemplating whether or not what was happening was indeed a reality or just a particularly convincing dream.

Vehuel didn't have words for him. Instead, the angel punched a solid section of the ship open to him, carrying the human out to the very edge of where the barrier ended. And there, waiting for him in this cruel plan, the monster he saw briefly before, its dozens of burning red eyes against its inky, finned, clawed and tentacled body. Eager. Anticipating. _Joyous_. Like a trained dog waiting for a treat.

Vehuel pressed the back of the human to the water, and suddenly the man sobered against its cold wetness, and his eyes widened in terror as he looked behind him and shuddered.

"He looks like I biter." Vehuel muttered loud enough for Evan to hear, "I should be careful to keep my fingers out of his way, don't you think?"

Vanniel screamed at the top of her lungs, and compounded by the form she took, the waters around them shook as she shrieked, "FATHER! NO!"

Vehuel barely heard her, and most definitely didn't see or consider the various other columns of water beginning to rush in.

However, both brothers flew to their Prince's side and voiced a shared reasoning, "If you kill him, the effect may weaken my sister's heart so that it could kill _all of us_, including the one we came to rescue." Rulthiel explained calmly.

Evan couldn't speak, trapped between monsters, he looked up to Vanniel as her struggle began to mount in both desperation and accepting the grim possibility that he might well die.

Vehuel pressed the human a little firmer into the water, some of him beginning to sink, and the leviathan sized beast sunk down to the ground, closer to the meal to come.

"My Prince," Nothiel placed a hand on the arm that held the human. "If you would have us trust you, you must also trust us, this mortal's death will come in time. It may not be by your hand, but it is as certain as the beast that licks its chops eagerly to devour all of us, and it will if you do what you're contemplating."

Slowly, Vehuel pulled the human back but didn't release him. The beast roared its deafening dim, teased and denied by the Seraph. Vehuel looked to Nothiel, "The rest of the crew, give them peace. Make it fast and painless."

Nothiel nodded, flying back to the ship to do as he was bid.

Evan clawed at the arm that held him, "No, wait, please!" The seraph's grasp burnt against his clothes, and for a moment looked like he was closing to putting him back into the water.

"This is _your_ punishment, little man." Vehuel almost whispered, "I don't know how you seduced Vanniel for this, but it nearly led to her death."

There were no screams, no yelling. Evan heard something being dropped, like a section of a bull being dropped to the ground after the butcher was done carving it, but several moments later, and the angel returned, his blade bloody.

"You bastard!" Evan pounded weakly against the arm, smacking his elbow joint from every angle to get it to break, but after several impacts, Evan just wanted the angel to hurt, at least a little from his hateful throes. Having the contrary effect, one last hit actually broke his right hand, making him curse profusely.

Vanniel didn't say a word as Nothiel did his duty, but her shoulders slumped more deeply from the despair of the act, several of the holes sealing over, but enough water was allowed in that the area was now a swampy mess.

"Ruthiel, get us home." Vehuel ordered wearily.

It took a few minutes more, until the sorcerous celestial was able to coax the spell to lead them back home, fleece of gilded substance or not, this place weighed down all action, be it weaving a spell or simply living from one moment to the next.

And those bleak moments of this dreadful scenario leaving them behind, why could was this weight not leaving their shoulders when next they saw the brilliant visage of the City Eversweet?

Vanniel? Her shame and her fatigue, but then the cruel spring of joy when she saw Vehuel let Evan down to the ground of the palace.

Rulthiel? His uncertainty of what was experienced, what more that may lay beyond, and how much of it was truly different then what he expected, the horrors and wonders both.

Nothiel? His doubt, damning and shocked at his sister for her sheer neglect of her duties to the city and her fellow angels.

Then Vehuel himself? Uncertainty atop uncertainty, of both himself, and what purpose he thought he had begun to fashion for himself. Could he protect his city, if he cannot, could he even protect what small facsimile of a family he retained?

Vehuel leant his head forward in capitulation of what he must do, realizing he was acting a fool for letting his desires rule him, ignore his responsibilities, whether he wanted these duties to Istannice or not. "Vanniel." He looked to the archangel, now her true, more humanoid angelic form, and walked towards her.

"Father, I-I'm truly sorry wit-"

Vehuel hugged her, silencing the angel of compassion. The act was far more awkward then when he was human, all the armor that was there body, not to mention the wings getting in the way as he tried to wrap his arms fully around her back and neck. "The fault is mine, child. I am sorry."

Vanniel did not respond, or hug back. Instead, she leant forward and laid her hooded 'head' on Vehuel's shoulder.

Nearly a minute passed until Vehuel padded her lightly, "Please, return to your aerie and rest, I must speak with the Ministers."

Vanniel stood back from the Seraph and nodded before flying out of the palace.

Vehuel looked to Rulthiel and Nothiel, "I will need you both with me when I speak with the Ministers, but may you," Looking to Rulthiel, "please get the Robel visitors to join us? This may involve them as well."

Looking down on the human as the archangel Gated himself away, "And you…" The human was barely standing, but looked up defiantly at the Seraph, "I give you your life back, _twice_. I will not provide it a third. Get this creature home by way of spell from the Sand-Elf Spellmasters, but do not tolerate resistance of any kind, Nothiel." Giving instruction to the last Archangel, Vehuel unraveled what was left of the Golden Fleece from around his wrist, its luster now dulled from either use or exposure to the bizarre realm, he was uncertain. Such items were made for quick escapes, when equipped by a party, certain spells such as Mass Relocation, Gate or Teleport-Party were faster, more secured, but they took a lot of the rarer materials to make, recalling how dull it was farming the materials from a specific series of higher tiered elite-mooks in Vanaheim. Vehuel clenched his fist, the element of the New World's scarcity only now dawning on him.

[]

"Well," Pavel sat next to Neia on a red, very fluffy cushion, something he found strange but intriguing, like a bushel of pillows thrown onto the floor, "if we're prisoners, we're being well taken care of." Taking a glass of the chill-water stuff from a nearby table.

Neia sat on a similar cushion of ultramarine, uneasily switching between sides of her buttocks as she closed her eyes, worry clearly strewn across her face, "Sorry, but this a first time for me."

Pavel smiled and chuckled, "Don't worry, I'm sure they just don't want us hearing anything embarrassing." 'Or dangerous.' He finished mentally, but his eyes wondered around the room again, looking for any sign of the horned creature he saw before.

Neia paused, but opened her eyes towards her father, and curiosity found its way to her mouth before reason, as she asked, "Were you ever taken prisoner?"

Pavel blinked from his vigil and looked towards his daughter with surprise.

Neia hissed and looked away, "I-ignore that! Sorry, it just kind of came out."

"I was little younger than you." He replied shortly after.

Neia refocused her sight on Pavel as he continued to explain, but he looked down mournfully. "I was still apprenticed to my master, Jooren. We thought we were undiscovered when we were scouting beyond the wall, but when we got closer to one of their camps, they strung us up and brought us back. I…" He rolled his jaw, "Don't know what happened to master, but I was put into forced labor for a month before I was lucky enough to escape. I fled to the wall, and the guards at its post held me there until someone could verify who I claimed to be."

"That's horrible." Neia replied breathlessly.

"Horrible yes, but there were these… moments with the beastmen. I will never be able to claim if they were truly human, in the fullest sense of the word, but they were not the _monsters_ I thought they were. I understood them better. Made me better at fighting them, but… harder still for it."

Neia's mouth opened slightly, wanting to say something, but instead looked away again and remained silent.

"You can ask me anything, okay?" Pavel smiled as he noticed her distress, "You don't have to be worried; I promise I'll answer you the best I can."

Neia glimpsed back at her father and bite the inside of her cheek apprehensively, "I… yes, papa."

A knock on the door to the room followed immediately after.

Pavel smiled, "Looks like we'll be released pretty soon too! Take your place by the queen."

Instead of Melkoth's warm smile, they opened the door to a tall, faceless angel, his blue robes flowing over his armor, his visage was not visible, but a strange unease filled all them as they looked for it in his hood. "Fear not," He bowed at the shoulder, raising a hand whilst putting the other over his chest, "I am to take you to a meeting of our Ministers, it is very important, and the Seraph would wish you to join us."

The queen nodded grimly, "What about Prince Luis?"

The celestial creature's aura was in a moment of flux, blighted by confusion and uncertainty to the queen's ring, but it answered, "I'm certain he will answer this gathering with his presence."

"Good." Calca smiled, "Shall we leave now?"

He nodded his head and gestured for them to follow, the walk was relatively short, but to Neia it felt tense, which made it feel like they were waltzing a mountain's distance by the time they arrived at the appropriate room, a vast, round table with varying chairs of size and design, headed by a massive throne nearby and at the back of the room, underneath a massive, blue-emerald stone, that glowed slightly and rotated slowly clockwise, and the longer she looked at it, she could have sworn she heard a deep, almost inaudibly low beating. Like a heart.

Melkoth approached them, and bowed his head a moment, "I apologize, an emergency has arrived at our doorstep." Gesturing to the seats, "Please, Queen Calca, take this seat. It belonged to a human warrior called Percilia, patron of the Graeci here."

The chair didn't seem like it was something that could be pulled out from the table, made out of a solid gold, a massive shield on its back and its arm rests were marble covered in furs but didn't seem connected to the floor.

Calca hummed in confusion, uncertain of how to slip herself in between the narrow opening of the table and the chair.

A mariner, Enrique Neia presumed, walked over to her and bowed, "If you'll allow me." Putting both hands on the top of the chair and pulling. It didn't budge in the slightest. His frustrations mounting for every attempt thereafter, until he got so fed up that he hopped onto the table, placed his feet on the back of the chair, put his hands on the tables edge and gave one last, grueling scramble of effort, sweat pouring and being thrown every which way.

"Ahem." Melkoth coughed into his fist, before putting a hand on the top of it, and pulling back. The thing smoothly pulled out, and Enrique fell into the crevice between to the two objects, his back making an audible pop that made all viewing the spectacle hiss in pity.

Enrique retracted himself from the spot, with a clear hunch to his stance as he sourly looked to the sand-elf then to his queen, "Your seat, milady."

Melkoth hid his growing grin behind his hand as the queen took the chair and tried her best not to feel embarrassed by what just occurred. 'So much for looks!' Calca thought.

Not too soon after, the Ministers arrived, and now did the Robel in the room realize that Istannice was hiding some stranger elements which they were keeping away from their eyes until now. There were beastmen, humans and elves in the city, this was understood, but now they saw creatures that many considered constructs, those 'Ushabti', have a representative, different and more elaborate and most certainly more lifelike then those they saw bring Shiehk and her ilk to Calca's kingdom. Then, did she see someone, some_thing_, erupt from a point in a room and become clearly visible to those human's unknown to him. A demon. His body, if robed and slightly lanky, looked more or less human, but his neck was long and bent, holding a head that was tortured, mutilated, having terrible horns and hellish eyes that gleamed with menace. Despite the terror he brought, his teeth, it had no lips to use, contorted in such a way that it seemed to 'smile' at them, as he played a single, simple, short, and almost disturbingly calming tune, its beauty clashing with the demonic visage of its maker.

Not too soon after the demon musician appeared, did a stone faced giant of a man, elderly but the various wrinkles and hair, but his stare was everything but haunting. "Your seat is my Princess's and mistress's, why sit you here?" He narrowed his glare, menacingly and pointed at Queen Calca.

She could see the hostility with her ring, but the question was a test, of what subject she could not tell. Pavel walked towards the man, "She was seated here by Minister Melkoth, if you have an issue take it up with him."

"I did not ask you, dog. You." Pointing at the queen. "What makes you worthy?"

Calca paused a moment and considered, "Pardon me, I thought you graeci were strong, but if you need to sit, by all means, take mine." Smiling, standing up and gesturing towards it.

The Robles were aghast that this man up seated their queen, then immediately insulted him, but the gruff man that approached them gave the tiniest of smiles, nodding slightly, "Never mind me." Then walking past the entourage to Melkoth's side, where Calca sat back down with a broad, proud grin, and those of her party were only slightly put at ease, astonished by their queen's cheek and success both.

Not too long after, the Seraph of Audacity and the angel that brought them here, alongside a newcomer of their kind, more armored and embellished in crimson, but not appearing anything remotely as formidable as the golden juggernaut of the seraph. "Thank you all for coming, I'll cut right to the chase; the Archangel of Compassion was attacked."

The ministers didn't hide their shock at the statement, but the seraph lifted a hand to calm their worries before saying, "She lives and is recovering, but was indeed wounded from the experience. We must find out who has performed this attack and why." 'Then damn well do the same to him!' Vehuel thought privately. "Which is why we have an audience, we ask the Roblians if they have any information of a 'massive dragon' that can perform such a task."

All the outsiders gave a silent, bewildered look at the seraph. "The Platinum Dragon Lord." Queen Calca sighed, "but we… many people assume he still rests in his city, unable to leave guarding his horde, and even when the Evil Entities rose to terrorize the world, he could only join the Thirteen Heroes in the form of his proxy, a suit of armor he had to control with magic as he stood by his home."

Vehuel nodded, "Is there any more information we can gleam? Lore masters from your kingdom or adventurers that have notable knowledge in this regard."

Queen Calca nodded, "I will have any and all who can provide you such sent to your people in my palace."

Vehuel looked to the angels at his side, and they both nodded silently as the Seraph quickly left.

"Wait!" Calca cried out, "What are your intentions if this wasn't the Dragon Lord's-?" The Seraph had left the room entirely, ignoring the woman. She rolled her jaw and scoffed, "How rude."

Not a second later, from an opposing door on the side of the palace, a flash of yellow light shot outwards to the inside of the room, and out strode Prince Luis, waving his hand at everyone, smiling from ear to ear, "Afternoon!"

Calca heard Shiehk give a quiet scoff before walking towards her ruler, who relayed the recent events. "Oh, oh my…" Luis replied, surprised but unconcerned somehow.

'If this man is able to rule all these people, these near-gods, how strong is _he_?' The Mad-Eye archer considered, seeing the rather benal creature. Grey skinned, but he bore no weapons, no armor, in fact, seemed quite peaceable, but the longer he stared at the strange human like man the archer couldn't help but deny there was so strange, radiating undeniable power about him.

The prince looked grimly to the ministers and the Robles, and grimaced, "I apologize for these happenings, your visit should have been free of issues."

Calca smiled and nodded, "Such are the difficulties of state, you just missed your military's leader leaving."

"I'm confident he had a good reason." Calca's ring told her he was hiding something but was not of a malicious nature. Luis smiled, "If you wish, we can send for your advisors in this regard, this is an international issue afterall." Looking to Shiehk, who complied in readying a scroll did give him a deathly glare when she did so.

The queen nodded, "That might be best." 'If Istannice goes war with Argland, the casualties suffered between the crossfire will be enormous!' The queen kept her calm, however, as she was Gated back to her palace, where she called for the Custodio sisters to be brought to her, but what surprised the attendant was her asking, "Also, fetch my brother. I will value his council greatly."

However, at the same time in Istannice, Luis looked to the two remaining angels, "Appraisal?"

The blue one spoke, "We… our sister was sent to another realm, a dark place. A creature there was beyond my scope of detection, which is not only strange but frightening if its able to ignore my skills."

"And this dragon sent the Archangel there? No one else?"

"So it appears." The red one commented lowly.

Luis pursed his lips, "Alright, lets get our facts straight; this was a deliberate attack by a dragon, was powerful enough to send one of our strongest to another realm, but did not or could not kill her, but the Roblians state that the dragon of such strength still remains in his own little hold."

"It would cause a far reaching stir if he was out and about," Pavel stated, "such an event would cause worry from here to the farthest end of the Bahuruth Empire on the otherside of the continent."

The prince put a fist up to his mouth, looking to the floor in thought. "I see."

A Gate opened a second after, emerging out four figures, the last a new comer to Luis's eyes. "Ah, and you are?"

He was a handsome, tall man with golden hair and blue eyes, he smiled as he nodded his head in greeting to Luis, "I am Caspond Bessarez, elder brother to my Queen."

Luis smiled and nodded back, "Good to meet you! Your sister mentioned you in passing."

Caspond looked to the side at his sister whom smirked devilishly, "All good, I hope?" He asked.

Calca shrugged humorously.

Remedios took a step forward, "Your Highness? What is this about?"

Prince looked to both of the sisters, "Information. Right now one of my strongest angels had nearly been destroyed by a dragon, we theorize that it was Platinum Drago-"

Kelart couldn't hold back her laughter, shocking the group and making the ministers look a mote more bloodthirsty from mocking their Prince.

"Sorry, sorry, really sorry!" She waved a hand from side to side, "With all due respect, that silvery sod wouldn't leave his city unless the world had suddenly decided to grow a voice and demand he do so."

Luis lifted a shoulder, "It's the best we got, and the angel was near Argland when the attack occurred. I have little doubt the attacker could have destroyed the ship, but it purposely sent a divine being into a place where their nature goes against the environment itself, it _knew what it was doing_ and what Vanniel was. No ability of hers could allowed escape. Do you know of any other dragon that could perform such magic?"

Kelart puffed her lips and tapped the end of her chin with a finger, narrowing her sight straight ahead, "Hmmm… none that are alive…" The tapping stopped, using the same finger to point at Luis, "But you must also know that angels aren't new here, and if your… Vanniel, was able to be rescued, alive, it was not an end all be all plan for something of its caliber. It may have been used to send lesser angels, or maybe other divine beings to die…" She hummed again, uncertain. "I'm surprised you don't know anything about the specifics of the attack, can we speak with Vanniel about it?"

"No." Luis firmly, "She is in need of rest, but I cannot wait for a new enemy to prepare while it has these capabilities, we need answers, but if we cannot have them, a better alternative is to strike."

Kelart rose an eyebrow at him, "Why not send a delegation? Maybe it thought your angel friend was Slane."

Luis clenched and unclenched his jaw, "So that they might send more of my people into a different plane? Or worse, capture them and pry intelligence of my city and their fellows out of their minds?"

Kelart sighed and extended a hand out vaguely, "This _can't_ be the work of the Platinum Dragon Lord, but he might know who has done this. Not many dragons are just wandering around the world, and even fewer people know how to shapeshift into such a creature, but that scaly shut-in has been around longer then countries, religions, entire cultures, has his hand in more grand affairs then anyone else, and you're telling me you want _to light his house on fire because there's an icicle's chance in Hell he might have been your mysterious enemy._" She pointed back at the Prince, "It's foolishness."

Luis stood in stunned shock, and every member of Istannice was a hair breadth's away from killing the outsiders. Shiehk already saw it in her minds eye; she'd Message Argos to kill the nobles in the palace, then return home with all speed. They'd probably have to kill the other humans in the country in short order right after.

Instead, the Prince looked away from Kelart, slightly ashamed. "I…"

Calca was half tempted to chastise Kelart for her lack of curtesy, but it did seem to have a large effect on the Prince.

Luis rubbed the back of his head, "I'll… we'll discuss this more in the morning. I may have to think longer about this, you all may stay further as planned if you wish."

Queen Calca gave a long, deep sigh, her relief nearly making her fall over. "We will take this offer, thank you prince Luis."

Luis looked to the ministers, and said, "In the meantime, I want all people of Istannice returned home, including those at Hoburns, I'll see to the party we've sent south."

Shiehk nodded and floated away into gold-dust, the other Ministers awaiting orders, "Return to your duties." Luis dismissed them all.

Melkoth approached the humans as the Prince departed the Palace. His expression was pensive, as if still wrangling with that desire to kill these people, but still followed his Prince's commands. "I will take you to your prepared rooms, are you three staying?" To the newcomer humans.

"Certainly not, I have many duties to attend to." Remedios shot her chin up at the elf.

Caspond gave a nervous glance to his sister, "Uh, I hate to seem rude at the offer, but I am having some important talks with the south."

Calca nodded and smiled, ignoring his apprehension, "By all means."

Kelart hummed to herself in thought. "Actually, I wouldn't mind staying… for a bit at least, this place looks _amazing_. The bragging rights with the others of my order will be staggering…" She said to herself and smiled.

Melkoth seemed almost personally insulted by the human Kelart's acceptance of the offer, seeing it as a formality by his lord and master that should not be abused by one so disgraceful to the Prince. "As you wish." And while these emotions were plain to Calca, the Sand-Elf smiled and nodded in his usual fashion, but quickly left her in the embrace of her countrymen to do as they will, entirely neglecting to warn her about the city's apparent dangers, as strange as the instructions were to avoid them.

Queen Calca turned to Kelart and gave a displeased hum, "You know you might have just stepped on more then a few toes with that little impolitic display?"

Kelart smiled back, "It's what I do."

Calca closed her eyes and sighed, "And out of all of the people you could have done it to, you did it to people that were considering attacking the Platinum Dragon Lord like you and I consider responding to raids by Beastmen."

Kelart grimaced, "Well, when you put it like that; you make me sound like my sister."

Calca shrugged, "Your sister might have a temper and isn't as… intellectual as you, but she knows when to bite her tongue when it's important."

"When _she_ thinks its important. If Remedios thinks to her its right to speak, she won't shut up. But she isn't the stop and talk type. Truly, I sometimes forget she's a woman." Recalling very well how her sibling was established as leader of the Kingdom's order of Paladin's.

"Still," Calca gave a stern, commanding face as she explained, "If you chose to be here, you will not let such a thing occur again. And while you are at it, you will apologize for your lack of grace."

Kelart blinked and stared back, mouth agape, "But I didn't say anything wrong!" She whined childishly.

"You will now make the apology publicly, for several people of Istannice to witness."

"I-!" Kelart's face flushed red.

"Chose your next words very carefully, high priestess." Calca warned, and using her title reminded the both of them what their positions in the realm demanded.

Kelart bit the inside of her cheek briefly, before closing her eyes and bowing at the shoulder, "As you command, my queen."

"Good." Calca nodded, "Rise, and before you go off adventuring through the city, Melkoth mentioned a couple things to my group when we arrived…"

[][][]

Felrrin growled lowly as she read the letter, "…and as of now, all citizens of Istannice must return as soon as possible, to insure not only the safety of our city but the people that live in its shadow."

Reynard coughed, putting a hand up to cover his smile, "That means we just teleport us and the carriage back? I won't have to drive the thing anymore?"

Felrrin gave a knowing glare at the foxkin which easily conveyed, 'Don't sound too happy about this.'

Azimuth asked aloud, "Have any idea what might be happening? The Prince seemed to very much enjoy this excusion, and dread to know what might have him so shortly recall it not half way to our destination."

Felrrin rerolled the message-scroll, brows scrunched as she looked at the table between them, then looked at the table to outsiders sat at on the otherside of the deployed carriage.

"We press on." He looked between the two of them, scanning their reactions.

Azimuth's was surprised, but not grave, it conveyed the shock of so willing nakedly defying the Prince with her peers.

Reynard's was a little more animated.

"Oh, come **ON**!" Standing from his seat and rubbing his hand on his face, catching the outsider's attention.

"Be quiet and sit down!" Felrrin ordered.

"No, no no no!" Reynard pointed at the Sand-Elf, "We go back! Why in the Hell do ya wanna go forward?!"

"Listen, this might well be a test of some sort." Felrrin knocked the end of the scroll on the table, "We were ordered 'as soon as possible' not with all speed, not immediately. It denotes a… grace of time, a convenience with those who have missions of import, like us! We must finish the mission!"

"I swear to the Princes, if you don't start makin' sense now I'll-"

"I'll let you sleep with women."

Reynard stopped midpace with his threat, the offer from Felrrin striking a chord within his heart that hummed almost as fiercely as his honour and duty to the city.

Reynard looked between Azimuth and Felrrin, his fiery defiance dimmed. "You won't tell the Prince if he suddenly rejoins us?"

"We won't." Felrrin looked to Azimuth sternly, conveying that this condition extended to her.

"And if these prejudiced little morsels we encounter on the way are a little… strange to the idea, you'll provide me a potion to make such a rendezvous more interesting." Reynard quickly licked his drying lips at the growing boon.

Felrrin seemed to hesitate a moment, and asked, "You know that isn't exactly a gentlemanly approach to getting a woman in bed? Nor is it… savory."

Azimuth stared at the Sand-Elf as she said, "It is rape, Sand-Elf."

Felrrin hissed at the Aldrikni from the statement, but still agreed with the hairy creature. Reynard looked eagerly for an answer, "No potions of mind control or anything like that… but I can…" She sighed, "fashion an aphrodisiac."

Azimuth hissed back harshly at the Sand-Elf's offer, before quickly standing, "I'll not hear anymore of this conspiring. Know that I will ensure your safety and keep word of whatever it is you do silent, if pressed by Vehuel I… do not know if I can keep such secrets! And you're both fools if you think you can either!" Before departing into the night veiled woods.

Reynard and Felrrin both thought on their departed companions warning, and when they looked back at each other they both understood they both shared the terrible feeling of treachery. Of not only duty, but decency.

Just by making the terms and setting the mission ahead, they already felt it was too late to turn back. "Your word?" Felrrin asked.

Reynard looked to the sky for a moment, waiting to see the Prince, perched on the nearby tree, waiting for what he'll say next before swooping down to express praise or cut off his head.

Then he noticed the outsiders talking and stared intently at the human sorcerous.

Looking back at Felrrin, he nodded, without a smile. "You have my word."

[][][][[][][][][]

**JUMPING DRAGON JESUS FINDING THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE THIS ONE WAS HELL!**

**Sorry this took so long, but work has been going through a dozen different kinds of insanity because of the various events throughout the last several months. It is not really my duty in life to judge the tide as it ebbs and flows, but man has it been tiring to avoid getting wet.**

**Hopefully, I can push another chapter of Overlord out soon, just recently got the first light novel and hidey ho did I screw the lore and background on more then one thing. I may go back and edit but write now moving forward and finishing the plan is more of a concern, I will refine the finished product later.**

**I hope you are safe and happy, and please try your best to continue to do so.**

**Cheers!**


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